Swann Song (Revamped as of 32818)
by kcpiratey05
Summary: Jack learns Elizabeth has been imprisoned and must save her from the Hangman's noose. Meanwhile there is a new enemy of the Brethren and a treasure to be sought. Post AWE, disregards OST. *Revised the first three chapters and added some new ones.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

"After months of searching, we finally have it! I never thought we would see the day." Jack exclaimed happily as he spread the map over his desk.

"Aye, Cap'n. Fortune favors us once again." Gibbs said returning equal amounts of exuberance.

"Shame Miss Elizabeth isn't here to share in our glory," he added innocently, staring over Jack's shoulder.

Jack immediately shot Gibbs an icy glare and the Pearl's first mate recoiled a bit at his captain's response. "She spent a fair amount of time searching for it with us, is all I'm saying," he amended in an attempt to cover his misstep.

"And then she decided to go sailing off on her own, so I can't imagine she'd give a fig that we've found it now," Jack snapped back, turning his attention back toward the map.

"Well, at least we can finally re-provision the ship and leave this godforsaken island. I've been hearing whispers of a growing naval presence in the Caribbean."

"Isn't there always?" Jack continued poring over the map, paying no mind to Gibbs' paranoia.

"Aye, but the Royal Navy has a new Commodore. Rumor has it his contempt for piracy knows no limits. He wishes to bring peace to the seas once and for all."

"Hah. Bringing war to the doorsteps of the King's enemies is more likely." Jack looked up from his map. "Leave the worrying to me, mate. You just make sure there is plenty of rum aboard. We'll meet later at The Bryde."

"Aye, Cap'n." Gibbs nodded before leaving the cabin.

Jack sat at his usual table in the back corner of the Faithful Bryde, a bottle of rum, half emptied sat on the table. He'd dismissed advances from several of the tavern's regular entertainment. This night he only wished to observe and listen and enjoy a drink before they disembarked the next day. They were headed to El Dorado, the famed City of Gold. Jack had searched nearly three years, spent quite a bit of coin, and made entirely too many promises he had no intention of keeping in order to retrieve the map hidden in his coat. But if said map was really to lead them to such a treasure, it didn't really matter what promises were made or to whom they were made.

The tavern was lively. Many ships had come in on the tide bringing various tales from all reaches of the globe. A few gentleman from Spain gushed on about how they took down a french naval ship stocked full of silks and lace. Another group of men had come from Madagascar and were dealing in exotic animals they'd hoped to sell in London. Jack had to sit back and smile. One couldn't find a more diverse collection of scallawags and adventurers than those who have passed through Tortuga's ports. Gibbs' paranoia would have to be put to rest for the evening.

Speak of the devil, Jack thought as Gibbs waltzed through the door.

"All set, Cap'n." Gibbs said settling down across from Jack

"Good man." Jack said, pulling a full bottle of rum from under the table and handing it to his first mate. "Anything of note worth noting?"

"Nay, all's clear. Weather is favorable and there hasn't been a single sighting of His Majesty's Navy." Gibbs proclaimed with confidence.

"Aye, there wouldn't be would there?" A drunken sailor slurred as he flopped into a chair beside Jack.

"And what is the meaning of such a statement?" Jack asked the drunkard, swiping the man's mug away in order to coax out an answer.

"They've no reason to come after us lowly lot. Or haven't you heard? They've captured their most coveted prize." He paused and looked to the other men to react to his tale. Jack looked to Gibbs who merely shrugged in response. The drunken sailor rolled his eyes. "They've bagged the sea beast...the manticore...the siren... the harpy herself." The man swayed from side to side in his seat.

"Speak plainly, mate." Jack interrupted, gripping the man by his shoulder to keep him steady as he waited with bated breath for the answer.

"The King…er...Queen," he exclaimed loudly before crouching low to Jack's ear and whispering, "of pirates."

Jack grabbed the man by his lapels and pulled him toward him with a strange intensity he didn't know he possessed. His cheeks were red with fury as he held the poor drunkard's shirt in his fist. "Where did you hear this?" Jack demanded with a low growl.

"It's been all over town. Any idiot with ears would know." The man slurred.

"Not every idiot" Jack said through gritted teeth as looked toward his first mate who flinched at the implication. "Do you know where they are keeping her?" he asked of the drunken sailor.

"Port Royal, then. The new Commodore wants to make an example of her. A nice public hanging to send a message to the Brethren." The man laughed. "Poor bird. No chance escaping that."

Jack threw the man to the ground as the drunkard continued to laugh. Gibbs looked on at Jack whose face had gone stark white as he stared straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared.

"Orders, Cap'n," Gibbs asked tentatively.

Taking a centering breath he grumbled, "Stick to the plan" before taking another swig from his bottle of rum.

"You don't mean to leave her there?" Gibbs asked in utter shock.

Jack remained at the table, unmoving.

"Jack!"

"Do I look like Turner to you? Bounding off head first into the fire every time that bloody woman needs rescuing?"

Gibbs stared down his nose at Jack with no shortage of disapproval.

"Don't look at me like that." Jack turned his head away, attempting to avoid the man's gaze.

Gibbs continued staring. Jack glanced back at his first mate out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, alright! Set a course for Port Royal. We leave immediately," Jack resigned and knocked back the remainder of his rum, slamming the tankard on the table.

Gibbs rose from the table and hurried out of the tavern. Jack dropped his forehead into his hands and cursed his terrible luck. Rescue the Pirate King from the bowels of Fort Charles. _What could possibly go wrong?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

After lengthy reconnaissance, the Black Pearl sailed into Port Royal's harbor in the dead of night. With the lamps doused, she was merely a ghost of a shadow upon the seas. Jack anxiously peered through his spy glass and made note of a few ships poised for battle, ready to sail at a moment's notice.

"What's the plan, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked as he looked on the familiar port with trepidation.

"It's going to take a fair amount of stealth and cunning to penetrate Fort Charles, break out the lovely prisoner and leave without anyone noticing. So, I'll be going by my onesies." Jack said simply, his gaze still trained toward the high walls of the fort that dangled cliffside. "And you'll be at the ready in case we're in need of a daring rescue." Jack closed his spyglass in one fluid motion and staked passed Gibbs as he headed to his cabin.

"You're certain that's where they're keeping her?" Gibbs asked, nipping at Jack's heels.

"I can't imagine they've given the most wanted pirate on the seven seas a fresh set of linens and a warm meal at the Governor's mansion," Jack tossed the words casually over his shoulder.

"No, I suppose not, but she is a lady," Gibbs said with a scratch of his head as he watched Jack flit about his cabin.

"Hardly a lady anymore." Jack was rifling through a trunk near the window, pulling out different odds and ends and throwing clothes about the cabin. He stood quickly, having found what he was looking for. He shrugged off his coat and shirt and replaced them with the black linen shirt he pulled from the trunk. "Last time they locked her away in a cell, her only crime had been assisting my escape. Hardly compares to the vast array of delightfully bad deeds she's committed since." Jack pulled his hair back into a queue, strapped a black leather baldric around his shoulder, grabbed a pair of pistols, and stuffed one knife in his boot and another in his belt. "How do I look?" Jack asked sincerely.

Gibbs couldn't help but laugh. His captain seemed unusually nervous. "Trying to make a good impression?" he teased carefully.

"Oh shut it. I mean, do I appear less conspicuous?" He squinted his eyes toward his oldest friend, only slightly irritated at how obvious his behavior had been. Jack _was_ nervous. A rescue mission such as this could land him a one way trip to the gallows. But even more terrifying was the prospect of seeing Elizabeth again. Their most recent parting had been…well…it didn't matter now. She was in danger and he wasn't about to let the girl hang no matter what had transpired between them.

"You look positively mysterious, Captain," Gibbs chuckled.

Jack smirked and headed toward the door."Remind me to keel haul you when I get back," he said stopping to wag his finger at Gibbs.

"Aye, Cap'n," Gibbs continued to laugh as Jack left the cabin.

—

Elizabeth sat cross-legged against the back corner of her cell with her eyes closed, greatly hoping for a few hours of peace. A small growl escaped her stomach and she took a deep breath, trying not let the madness set in. She hadn't been fed more than a quarter of what could only be considered as ship's rations every other day nor had she slept a wink since her incarceration. The good Commodore sent guards in every couple of hours to draw steel across the bars or toss water on her. He was intent on seeing her suffer, of that she had no doubt, but her sodden, starving state was merely a nuisance compared to what she had already endured upon his ship.

The new Commodore was a staunch man. Unfettered by the temptations of common men, he was devout in his faith and followed the law to the letter. Commodore Augustine Carrington was a premiere specimen; six feet tall and twice as strong as the navy's strongest. His sole mission was to end piracy once and for all and bringing the glory of God back to the crown.

Elizabeth was certain it was an act, a way to intimidate, to rule by fear. An unfortunate error in judgement on her part.

Her ship had been taken in the cover of night. The Commodore disguised his own ship as a merchant vessel. They'd been waiting for her; her position given away by an act of cowardice of a former crewman that had jumped ship. Elizabeth hadn't paid the ship a second glance and kept on course. It wasn't long before Carrington attacked, and half of her crew had fallen trying to protect the ship. Elizabeth attempted to put up a fight, but was quickly outnumbered and apprehended. The rest of her crew surrendered and were taken prisoner. She was later brought to the Commodore's quarters, wrists shackled behind her, and was shoved violently to her knees.

"Remove her restraints. She has nowhere to run," he said to his men. They did as commanded and stood guard at the door. "You may go," Carrington said, exasperated. The two men looked at each other and back at the Commodore who nodded toward the door, urging them to leave at once. They exited swiftly and Carrington closed the door behind them.

"Do you think it wise to be left alone with an unbound pirate?" she asked with a smug smirk from the floor, examining the wounds the manacles had left on her wrists.

The door clicked shut and the Commodores boots plodded toward her. "I'll take my chances," he growled in her ear. Grasping a chunk of her hair, he pulled her head back hard. "Lift up your sleeves." He commanded. She stayed defiantly still. He pulled back on her hair again. "Do not test my patience, girl."

She did as she was bid, but only cooperated to a point, and lazily pulled the sleeves of her blouse up to her elbows. Dissatisfied by what he saw or rather what he did not see, the commodore pulled harder on her hair and grabbed the collar of her shirt with his other hand, lifting her to her feet. He shoved her against his desk, pinning her from behind and grabbed at her hands, turning them over to expose the underside of each arm. There, on the inside of her left arm, a small skull wearing a crown over two crossed swords was tattooed onto her skin. It was her own design, a variation of the Jolly Roger. It signified her victory over the East India Company and, more importantly, it signified her reign as King of the Brethren Court. It was a symbol branded onto the bodies of several enemies littered throughout the Caribbean who were unlucky enough to survive an encounter with the Pirate King. It was the very thing Commodore Carrington was hoping to find.

"It is you. Elizabeth Swann. I've been waiting a long time to get you into my clutches." He released her.

"Captain Swann, if you please." She said, rubbing at her head. "Or King Swann, which ever you'd prefer." She turned to face him and was greeted by a hard smack across the mouth.

"You're a criminal not a captain and certainly not a king. I will see to it, personally, that you and your despicable brethren are brought to justice," he seethed.

"Justice? You know nothing of justice," she spat back at him. He smacked her again and Elizabeth licked the blood from her lip, the faintest hint of metal lingering on her tongue. "Am I to be intimidated by this show of strength? If you're going to kill me, have it done with. I've no time for such posturing," she provoked him while she wiped her mouth.

He grabbed her roughly by the chin, squeezing her cheeks between his hand. "There's time enough for you to beg for death should I choose to be less lenient, so I'd watch your tongue."

"Perhaps you'd like to watch it for me," she said seductively, pressing her hips toward his, purposefully goading him, testing just how far he could be pushed.

He quickly dropped his hand to her throat and squeezed. She gasped for breath and grabbed at his hand, trying to pry it away, but he was far too strong for her. "Listen closely, Ms. Swann. You and your kind are facing extinction. The modern world will no longer tolerate such lawlessness, such Godlessness. Society demands control, order, piety, and I intend to bring these things to fruition. Defeating the Pirate King would send a rather loud message, don't you agree?"

"What are you waiting for then?" she managed to choke out between gasps. Elizabeth could feel her senses leaving her as the edges of her vision began to turn black. Her body slackened and he released his hold, allowing her to stumble to the floor. "I don't mean to kill you, Miss Swann. I mean to rehabilitate you."

"I'd rather die," she scoffed as she propped her self into a sitting position.

"You don't deserve such mercy," he growled, towering over her with a menacing grin.

Elizabeth left his cabin in far worse condition than when she'd arrived. To add insult to injury, he set her ship aflame with the remaining crew aboard and forced her to watch until it rested upon the ocean floor. He wasn't afraid of her the way other men were. Most men wouldn't dare touch her. Not the commodore. In fact, it seemed he enjoyed inflicting the pain.

She spent six weeks locked in the dungeons of Fort Charles before Carrington had given up in his attempts to rehabilitate her and ordered her execution. He hoped news of her impending hanging would bring a few cockroaches out of the woodwork, kill two birds with one stone as it were, but after five days, not a sail could be spotted on the horizon. Elizabeth wasn't surprised, but somewhere deep inside there was a small kernel that hoped someone would come for her.

A sound came from farther down corridor that forced her eyes open. It was too early for the watchmen and she'd already been given her allotted food. Panic began to creep in. She didn't think she could endure any more of the Commodore's particular brand of torture. Perhaps her time had finally come? In that moment, genuine fear consumed her. She wasn't ready to die. Not yet. _Some Pirate King, she made…_

The footsteps grew closer and clashing among them she swore she heard whistling which did little to belay her anxiety.

Elizabeth stayed huddled toward the back of her cell, feigning sleep. She could hear the steps drawing nearer and nearer until finally they came to stop in front of her cell. She kept her eyes shut, waiting for a voice to speak, for some kind of indication of what was in store for her.

"You look bloody awful, love." A slurred drawl came from the other side of the bars. Her eyes snapped open and relief flooded her body at the sight of Jack Sparrow standing before her. He'd come for her. After everything, he'd actually come for her. She attempted to calm herself as she slowly got to her feet.

"I didn't know you were coming. I'd have dressed more appropriately. A dress or nothing, I believe was the preferred attire." She smiled sweetly moving toward the bars, putting on the best front she could muster and failing miserably as she grimaced with every step.

"Indeed," he smirked back at her. Jack didn't buy for one second the charade she so elegantly put up for him nor did it go unnoticed that she was favoring her left leg as she ambled toward him.

He clucked disapprovingly at her disheveled state. She looked a mangled mess. He brought his hand to her face, brushing a thumb over her bruised cheek. She jerked back slightly at his touch. "The Commodore's handiwork?" He asked, pulling his hand back.

She wanted to cry and scream and beg for him to take her away from Port Royal as soon as humanly possible, but the only words she managed to utter were, "It's barely a scratch" as she clutched the cell bars tightly. Why it was so important to maintain a steely visage in front of Jack, she couldn't say. Certainly proving herself a capable pirate had something to do with it, but the manner in which she'd left the Black Pearl weighed heavily upon her and was likely the true crux of the charade.

"Hmph." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Still every bit as stubborn," he mused. "I suppose you'd like me to get you out of there?" he offered.

"If it's not too much of an inconvenience?" She continued with pretended reservedness.

"Quite an inconvenience, actually. I was just on my way to find a magnificent treasure when I heard you'd been captured." He pulled out the keys he'd commandeered from the gaoler.

"And you couldn't stomach the idea of me swinging from the noose and rushed to my rescue? How sweet, and how fortunate for you a magnificent treasure was waiting here all along." She smirked half-heartedly.

"Cursed treasure maybe" he teased as he put the key to the lock.

"Just hurry would you?" She blurted out, all of a sudden becoming flustered. She looked hurriedly left and right down the corridor, fearful the guards would round the corner any moment.

Jack flashed her a look of concern and she responded with pleading eyes."Yes, yes alright." He swung the cell door open and she flung herself into his arms in an instant, sending Jack careening against the wall of the corridor with thud.

"Thank you," she whispered against his neck.

Jack shut his eyes briefly, her warm breath against his skin far from displeasing. "Don't thank me yet. Come on." He reluctantly peeled her off of him and grabbed her hand, leading them further down the corridor and up the steps.

She pulled his hand, stopping him in the middle of the hallway. "We can't go this way." She said shakily.

"Why not?" Jack asked, confused.

"Carrington's quarters are this way. He never sleeps." _And he'll kill you without a second thought…_

"But it's the quickest way out of here," he argued.

"No, it's not," she said with a determined smirk, an idea clearly forming in her mind.

"By all means, then, lead the way." He stuck his arm out, gesturing her to go ahead.

Elizabeth led them down the opposite hallway which opened up into the courtyard. There, in the middle of the open square, was an all too familiar wooden structure.

"Eager for that trip to the gallows, darling?" he whispered, spying upon the scaffold where he nearly met his end.

"Oh, please. In all my years of living on this god forsaken island, no one has ever been stationed here. What prisoner would be daft enough to run _toward_ the gallows?" She pulled him along with her as she hobbled quickly toward the platform. She stopped them, peering around the corners to make sure no one was standing guard upon the battlements beyond.

"I can name at least one," he said from behind her.

"Coast is clear, let's go." She ran toward one of the pillars across the courtyard and held herself flat against the stone. Jack rolled his eyes and followed quickly behind her.

"I thought I was the one doing the rescuing here?" he whispered when he joined her against the pillar.

"If a half baked plan is what you call 'rescuing' then, yes, you are doing a splendid job," she said as she peered around the corner. She didn't mean to sound so harsh, she was unfathomably thankful, but they were pressed for time and returning to Carrington's clutches was not an option for either of them.

"I could have let them hang you," he muttered.

"Shh." She clamped a hand over his mouth as the sound of footsteps slowly passed them.

Taking note of the way his features softened at her touch, she gave a half smile and removed her hand. "Ready for a swim?" She asked him.

He looked at her in astonishment. "You must be joking?" he responded after following her gaze out over the harbor.

"It's not like either of us hasn't done it before. Where's your sense of adventure, Jack?" she teased, toying with the strings of his shirt. Elizabeth couldn't properly put into thoughts how comforting it felt to have him near her again. The repartee, the mischief, the smell of rum and freedom, the way his eyes beheld her very soul…she didn't realize how alone she'd felt over the last few years. She'd been living a life devoid of his presence for the sake of her marriage and it had taken its toll on her…on the both of them. She'd become too reckless and he'd become too careful.

"I left it in the locker," he murmured and she narrowed her eyes at him. "'Tis a long swim to the Pearl," he pointed out. "We'll be sitting ducks."

"Those buffoons will never notice two bodies floating in the water. It's now or never, Jack." Before he could utter another word, she ran up the last few steps and leapt off the top of the fort.

"Stop her!" Came a shout from behind him. A disheveled Commodore and several guards were running toward the place from where Elizabeth had just jumped.

"She wont get far. Signal the ships and head to the shore. Cut off any and all escape routes." Carrington commanded. "And remember lads, she's likely not alone."

Jack snuck a peak around the pillar to see the guards running toward the beach. The Commodore remained on the battlements with his back toward Jack.

"Bloody woman" Jack cursed, running a hand over his face. He gave one last look at the Commodore before giving away his position and jumping in after Elizabeth. A monstrous shout echoed behind him into the night as he plunged into the deep blue waters below.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack surfaced as cannon fire transformed the harbor into a torrential mess. The normally calm waters had turned to chop, and he was struggling to maintain his position. He took a quick look around, trying to locate Elizabeth, hoping she'd found some cover before they started firing. Jack thought he saw movement near the hull of one of the naval ships and began to swim toward it. Smart girl. The Commodore would have to be desperate indeed to fire upon his own ship.

As he was swimming, a piece of case shot pierced his shoulder. He let out a groan and dove under the water to escape the raining bits of shrapnel. Another shot pierced him. He continued to swim, but his arm grew heavier with each stroke. His speed slowed and he started to sink. Jack was nearly out of breath. He broke the surface for just a moment when a canon ball about took off his head before he could slip beneath the water again. He had little strength in his arm to keep swimming and he'd lost sight of Elizabeth.

I'm going to die here, he thought as he felt around blindly beneath the water. She continues to be the death of me, and what do I get for my trouble? Suddenly a hand gripped his shirt collar and brought him up to the surface. Jack coughed up a bit of water as he struggled to find his breath.

"You're all right?" she asked him as she maneuvered his hand to grasp the planks of the hull, still clutching his shirt tightly in her other hand. She noticed blood dripping down his chest. "You're hit," she said worried, running her hands inside of his shirt, pulling the fabric to one side.

"I'm fine," he coughed, shrugging his shoulder away as if her very touch burned his skin.

Elizabeth gave him a curious look while he avoided her gaze.

"You're all right?" he asked her flatly.

"Well enough. Where's the Pearl?" she asked with some urgency.

"At the edge of the harbor, though I'd bet my last bottle of rum Gibbs started to retreat after hearing the cannon fire," Jack said with a furrowed brow.

"How exactly did you imagine we were supposed to get to the Pearl in this grand scheme of yours?!" she asked in a rasp screech.

"I do believe I told you it would be a long swim back to The Pearl, but you decided to free fall for all to see over the battlements anyway. I'd stashed a long boat along the beach. An option no longer available to us now that Carrington's sent his troops to the shoreline and you and I are about to become nothing more than flotsam," he nearly screamed back at her.

"So what do you suggest we do then, Captain?" she screamed back at him for no other reason than because he had screamed at her first.

Jack turned his face from her and rapped his fingers along the hull of the ship as he formulated a plan. With a sly smile, he gave a meaningful look upward toward the deck and dropped his gaze back to Elizabeth.

"You want to commander the ship?!" she exclaimed in a harsh whisper.

"These ships have been ready to set sail at a moments notice for weeks. All we have to do is overpower the crew," he shrugged casually.

"You expect to do that just the two of us, do you?" She asked incredulously.

"What other option do we have?" Elizabeth had no answer. "Come now, Lizzie, where's your sense of adventure?" he added narrowing his eyes at her, successfully turning the tables back on her.

"Fine. Let's get on with it," she muttered.

—

The cannon fire had ceased and long boats began to search the water for their bodies. Elizabeth could hear Carrington and his attendants yelling orders from the battlements. Unintelligible, but she could hear the frothing anger in his screams.

She made her way around to the bow of the ship hugging her body close to the hull. After a moderate amount of deliberating, Jack and Elizabeth had agreed that she would be the one to climb up to the bowsprit and ascend into the rigging to unfurl the sails while Jack cut loose the anchor. Hopefully it would distract the soldiers long enough for them to gain some kind of advantage. It wouldn't be the easiest of endeavors. Being practically starved and nursing a fair amount of injuries left her with very little strength, but she still had use of both her arms. Jack on the other hand was limited in what climbing he'd be able to stand, so she would have to endure, or they were both done for.

Elizabeth flung herself onto the jib boom and used the lines to swing herself up to the foremast. She landed with a feline's grace, ignoring the pain that shot through her leg upon landing, and began to work.

A few expertly placed cuts and the sails on the foremast unfurled before her. She quickly grabbed another line and swung to the main mast, landing on soft feet into the crow's nest. The lookout had been facing the opposite way and was oblivious to her presence. Elizabeth crept behind him and gave his neck a twist, his body crumpling in a heap at her feet. She plucked his pistol from his belt, and after a few more cuts, the main sails were billowing in the wind.

Their luck couldn't have been better, she thought to herself. Well, actually, it could have, but the wind was favorable at least. Without that, the plan would have failed miserably.

The ship was nearly at full sail, the seamen beneath her were scrambling to figure out what was going on. The ship began to pull forward, but only sluggishly.

"Come on, Jack. Cut the anchor," she whispered as she spied upon the deck from her perch.

Without warning, the ship lurched forward and started picking up a fair amount of speed. The ship's captain was screaming at his men to tie up the sails and lower the other anchor. Upon realizing all the ropes had been cut, men started climbing up the rigging.

She cut a few more lines, sending the men to the deck or out over the water. By her count, they only had to fend off ten crewmen and the captain. It wasn't an impossible task, but it wouldn't be easy either, especially not if any of the other ships were to take notice.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jack creeping over the port side gunwale. He ran his sword through two men almost immediately. Keeping their attention trained high over head, they never heard his approach. She watched as he ducked behind a large barrel near the quarter deck steps, trying to plan out his next move. The Captain loomed above him at the helm, having just barely passed Jack upon the steps. He watched the deck like a hawk and his gaze was moving ever closer to Jack's hiding spot. She would have to take out the captain, otherwise Jack was as good as dead.

She swung to the mizzenmast, and, wrapping a second line around her wrist, dropped gracefully to the deck behind the captain. At the sound of the whizzing rope and the barely concealed thud of Elizabeth's boots upon the deck, the captain turned to face his assailant. "You!" he spat. "It will give me the greatest pleasure to be the one to deliver you back to the Commodore," he said unsheathing his sword.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I will not be going anywhere. Count on that." She said, pointing her newly acquired pistol at his forehead. There was a brief moment, as she stood with the pistol out in front of her, when she thought it might be wise to take the Captain hostage. However, remembering all she had endured in the Navy's care, she fired the pistol without further hesitation.

The shot echoed loudly over the harbor causing Jack to look up behind him. The body of the captain fell backwards over the railing and his sword clattered to the deck at Elizabeth's feet. The remaining crew turned their attention toward the helm, where Elizabeth stood with her smoking barrel.

They charged quickly with their swords drawn. Elizabeth picked up the cutlass and ran down the steps engaging the first two men that reached her. With a grand roll of his eyes, Jack left his hiding spot and attacked several men before they reached quarter deck. Thankfully Britain's best sailors for the most part were terrible swordsmen otherwise Jack would have had a difficult go of it.

With only three men left, Elizabeth was locked into battle with one scrappy young lad while Jack was engaged with two rather burly gentleman. Every parry, every blow sent a jolt of pain through his shoulder, but Jack managed to send one of the two over the rail leaving him able to focus on just one opponent. Though he was quickly losing his grip on his cutlass, he gathered all of the strength he had left and unleashed holy hell on the man in front of him. He refused to let his attempted rescue end in vain.

Elizabeth's foe had run from the helm down to the stern and gave a blood curdling cry back to the harbor as he rang the ship's bell. Elizabeth cut the lad down from behind and tossed him into the sea, but not before Carrington's ships started unfurling their sails in pursuit. She moved to help Jack but as she turned, Jack had pulled his bloody cutlass from the man's gut and pushed him over the railing.

—

"I thought we agreed discretion was key?" he asked, moderately annoyed his entire plan had gone to pot because Elizabeth Swann was too bloody stubborn for her own good.

"If I hadn't dispatched the captain, you'd be dead," she said, pulling the mainsail line more taught, so it stopped flapping about and could actually do its intended job.

"You could have offed him with a bit more stealth," he said as he passed her on his way to the helm. "I gave you a dagger."

"I did what I had to." She followed him up the quarterdeck steps. "You might thank me."

Jack narrowed his eyes at her as he adjusted their course toward the Pearl with a slightly pained face. "Hmph."

"How's your shoulder?" she asked bringing her hands up to inspect the wound. He shrunk back, pulling himself just out of her reach.

"I'm fine." He continued to face straight ahead, unmoving.

Elizabeth pulled her hands back, folding her arms to her chest. "Why do I get the feeling you're unhappy with me?" she asked, staring him down.

"What gave you such an idea?" His tone was so dry she couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or if he was actually being sincere. He tied off the helm and stormed down the steps, messing with some lines at the bow.

"Jack." She called after him, nipping at his heels. "What on earth is the matter with you?" she asked, stepping in front of him to block his path.

"Nothing," he said pushing her shoulders, shoving her back a step. "Let's just get safely to the Pearl, all right?" His tone softening ever so slightly before marching back to the helm.

Elizabeth blinked, frozen to the spot. There was something hidden behind his words, an emotion she couldn't quite place. It was more than anger and she was at fault. It was naive of her to think anything could be as it was before.

For once, she didn't follow him.

—

She watched Jack as he sat near the helm atop a barrel, unsuccessfully attempting to nurse his wounds. He hadn't spared her a single glance since their altercation (if one could call it that) on deck. Becoming fed up with his obstinate sulking, Elizabeth found herself in the Captain's cabin looking for a clean cloth and a bit of alcohol. Satisfied with her findings, she gathered her supplies and headed to the helm. He paid her no mind as she walked up behind him, dropping the bottle of brandy she'd found in his lap. He looked up at her with only a small amount of irritation.

"A peace offering, and…I suppose…I owe you a proper thank you for coming to my rescue…again."

"You're welcome," he said flatly.

Elizabeth pulled up a crate and sat next to him. "May I?" she asked of the wounds. Jack rolled his eyes and reluctantly agreed. She took out her borrowed knife and cut his shirt open enough for her to slide it off of his shoulder completely. He was hit twice. Fortunately, only the first shot had buried itself into his shoulder, the other merely grazed the skin. She scooted more behind him and, grabbing the bottle moments before Jack brought it to his lips, poured a small bit of the liquid over his wound, clearing away some of the blood and allowing her to see the full scope of the damage. He winced and she handed the bottle back to him.

She wiped the area with a cloth and noted the small bit of metal that had burrowed its way beneath the skin. "I can't get it with my fingers. I'll have to pry it out," she said tonelessly, asking for permission to do what was necessary.

"Just get on with it," he grumbled.

She cleaned off her knife with a splash of the brandy and began working it into his shoulder. He twitched slightly at the pain, but for the most part stayed entirely still.

"Are we going to talk about what's gotten into your knickers?" she asked while she worked.

"I hadn't planned on it," he said through gritted teeth. Talking about it wasn't going to change anything.

"Need I remind you that I'm holding a knife very near to your exposed throat," she teased, trying to keep her tone light.

"Hardly need the reminder. If my life is ever in danger, I know without question you are the cause." Anger seeping through his dulcet tones.

"I beg your pardon, Jack Sparrow, we settled that debt. You can't go bringing it up all the time just because it suits you," she responded in defense.

"Settled? Ha! Seems to me, I've risked my neck far more times saving yours than the other way around," he responded acidly. "Believe me, Lizzy dear, we are far from settled."

Elizabeth paused. "While I appreciate that you continue to risk your neck, Jack, I didn't ask you to come for me," she said softly as she succeeded in working out the metal scrap from its resting place. After dropping the knife on the deck next to her, she started to clean up the wound.

"No, you didn't," Jack murmured after a moment. "I suppose it was the whelp you were waiting for instead, aye?" Jack fired back.

Elizabeth's face turned red and her hands stilled. Quickly, she rose from the crate and threw the cloth into Jack's hands. "Clean it yourself," she seethed and stormed to the Captain's cabin, slamming the door behind her.

"I never asked for your help in the first place!" he yelled after her and gave a deep sigh at the sound of the door slamming.

—-

The crew dropped a plank from the Pearl to connect the two ships. Jack went across first to test its stability and Elizabeth followed closely behind. The two hadn't spoken a word to each other aside from Jack telling her they were approaching the Pearl.

In a gesture that surprised them both, Jack offered his hand to help her to the deck. She took it hesitantly, but dropped his hand the second her feet touched the deck which did not escape his notice.

They were welcomed aboard by a chorus of cheers, greeted first by Gibbs who seemed more relieved than probably necessary that they'd made it back in one piece. Jack ordered the crew to grab as much as they could from the stolen ship and to make sail with all haste, before he marched off to his cabin without another word.

Gibbs looked to Elizabeth. "What's eating him?"

"You want me to name just one thing?" she answered with a touch more frustration than she intended, and disappeared below deck.

Gibbs shook his head and sighed, proceeding to make his way onto the other ship to supervise the pillaging.

—-

Gibbs approached the door to the Captain's cabin and knocked. A gruff voice barked from the other side. "Come in."

Gibbs entered to find Jack leaning back in his chair, feet propped upon his desk, hat over his face and an empty rum bottle beside him.

"The lads grabbed eight barrels of powder, fifteen muskets, three casks of wine, a freshly salted pig, and four barrels of fresh water. The Pearl is underway, sailing full speed northeast, but there are white sails at our heels. We should be able to lose them as we round the island and head into open waters."

"Wonderful. Anything else?" Jack asked from beneath his hat.

"Well…um…what exactly is our heading, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked nervously, unsure of his Captain's current mood.

"Wherever the bloody hell she wants to go." Jack said removing his hat and pulling out another bottle of rum from beneath his desk, paying no attention to the shocked expression on his first mate's face. Jack uncorked the bottle aggressively and took a vigorous gulp.

"Jack." Gibbs scolded.

"What?" He looked at his friend for the first time since he'd entered the room.

"What the hell is going on?" Gibbs asked meaningfully.

"Not a bloody thing. The lass is safe from the noose, so she can be dropped off in whatever derelict port she chooses. It's no business of mine, my task has been completed. Now if you'll excuse me." Jack took another vigorous gulp.

"Did she ask to be taken anywhere, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked.

"Not that I can recall," Jack stated impatiently.

"So what makes you think she wants to be taken anywhere?"

"If she wanted to be here, she'd have been here already," Jack muttered coldly.

"Ah." Gibbs responded knowingly.

"What, 'ah'?" Jack dared him to continue.

"Still licking old wounds, aye?" Gibbs pondered accusingly. It was a bold statement from a first mate to a Captain, but Joshamee had known Jack longer than anyone would care to admit, and there was no sorer a subject than one Elizabeth Swann…Turner.

"So what if I am?" Jack had turned defensive.

"Do whatever you wish, it's none of my business, but perhaps you could be a gentleman and tend to her wounds as well. I don't think she has anywhere to go." Gibbs cared a great deal for Elizabeth as well, having known her as a young girl and as a pirate. The poor girl lost nearly everything, and he felt a certain fatherly responsibility for her well being.

"Pfft. The way she so considerately concerns herself of mine? She's a grown woman, she can take care of herself and has said so on more than one occasion." Jack reclined again, propping his feet back up on the desk.

"Don't be an idiot, Jack. The girl's been through hell, her crew killed and her ship sunk to the bottom of the ocean. I'd like to think you'd be able to sympathize," Gibbs added meaningfully.

"Well, you thought wrong."

Gibbs threw his arms up in resignation and turned to walk out of the cabin. With a half open door, he stopped, looking over his shoulder at Jack. "You're daft if you think she doesn't care for you," he spoke decidedly and walked out the door earning a barely audible grumble from the sullen Captain.

—

"Well?" Elizabeth asked of Gibbs as he exited the captain's cabin.

Gibbs shuffled his feet back and forth, wringing his hands nervously. "Did you have somewhere in mind you'd want to go?" Gibbs asked far too sympathetically for Elizabeth's taste.

He wanted her gone, then, she thought sadly. "Shipwreck Cove, I guess," she sighed. "If he's hellbent on getting me off of this ship, that's just as good as anywhere else." She stared at the door to Jack's cabin sadly as she feared whatever there was between them was well and truly broken.

"Aye, your highness." Gibbs answered.

"Elizabeth, Mr. Gibbs. Please call me Elizabeth," she smiled and turned on her heel to head below deck.

"As you wish," he said and headed to the helm.

—

Gibbs had given Elizabeth his private quarters below deck. It was partially used as a store room, so Pintel and Ragetti had to clear out the extra barrels and crates before they stripped the bed and put on new linens. After they had finished with that they left fresh clothes on her berth and hauled in a tub filled with hot water for her to wash.

"That's hardly necessary, boys." She laughed as they sloshed water onto the floor.

"It's our pleasure, poppet. No trouble at all," they said back to her.

"Many thanks, then," she said bowing to them with her hands clasped.

Once they'd left, she knelt next to the tub and let the steam wash over her face. The heat felt heavenly after spending so long in her dank cell at Ft. Charles. She couldn't wait a moment longer and began stripping off her clothing. Elizabeth tested the temperature of the water with her toe, before stepping in completely. The heat sent a shiver of excitement up her spine and she quickly submerged herself, letting the water wash over her head.

She stayed under for a moment, enjoying the silence and the warmth like it was a cocoon enveloping her. The heat was sharp on her marred skin, but it passed quickly and soon the ache in her bones had ebbed. She was thankful for the relief, even if only momentarily. Popping back up, she peered over the tub and grabbed the linen bag full of soap and lavender that Ragetti had left for her. She dropped the lavender flowers into the water and swirled them around in front of her. Never in her life did she think she'd enjoy a bath as much as she did in this moment. The soap had a sour odor but she lathered her skin all the same. Weeks of dirt, grime, and blood had caked her sun tanned features and soon turned the water a murky gray.

Once satisfied with the state of her cleanliness, Elizabeth leaned back against the tub and shut her eyes, allowing herself to relax and relish the last remaining moments of the heated water. It always amazed her how she felt more at home on the Pearl than her own ship. She'd reasoned it was merely the amount of time spent that separated one from the other, but if she was being honest with herself, her own ship was severely lacking a certain, currently brooding, captain. That mattered little now as her own ship was currently at the bottom of the sea and her captain was shipping her off to the nearest port. She desperately wanted to cry, but didn't see the point of it anymore. She'd shed so many tears for Will, for her father, for James, for her crew, and for Jack as well, she had none left to shed for herself.

Just as she was beginning to doze off, Jack barged in without warning, startling her out of her skin.

"You don't have to go to Shipwreck Cove!" he barked as he entered her quarters.

"Jack!" She shrieked, sinking beneath the water, leaving only her head exposed. "We've abolished knocking, have we?" she muttered angrily.

He gave her a sly smirk. "It's my ship, I can do as I please."

"I suppose you can. Though, I'll pretend not to notice the sheer convenience of you happening upon me while in my state of undress," she said with a scowl.

"I assure you, it was merely coincidence," he said putting his hands up in front of him.

"I'm sure." She narrowed her eyes at him before scanning the room for her clothes, and of course not a piece of fabric was within reach. "Well, since you're just standing there, be useful would you, and hand me something to put on," she requested of him as he continued his unwavering observation of her person.

"No need to get out on my account. You my continue," he said leaning against the wall of her cabin.

"I'm finished," she said tersely.

Jack looked around. Locating her boots on the floor next to him, he picked them up and brought them to the edge of the tub, smirking at her all the while. Perhaps not all was broken.

"Lecherous pirate." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "If you're not going to be helpful, then turn around," she commanded.

"Come now, Lizzie, it's nothing I haven't seen before," he teased with a knowing wink.

Elizabeth shot him a most murderous look, and he continued to look at her with an infuriatingly mischievous smirk, maintaining his post against the cabin wall. He was offering her an olive branch and Elizabeth was relieved by that at least, but she still wasn't going to bare all in front of him. It wasn't that Elizabeth was feeling overly modest in that moment. She didn't much care if Jack saw her in any state of undress, but her time as Carrington's prisoner had left her with scars she did not wish to share, at least not yet.

They continued to stare each other down until Elizabeth finally relented. Rising from the tub with a huff, water dripping off of her in all directions, Elizabeth climbed out and marched passed Jack toward the bed.

Keeping her back to him, she threw the borrowed tunic over her head. Jack smiled when she rose, fully prepared to spout off all manner of innuendo, but he paled in an instant and fell silent as he noted the vast array of bruises covering her body and the freshly healed scars adorning her back. All at once, he felt extreme guilt niggling away at his insides. Her playful voice broke his concentration. "I'm sorry I can't see the look on your face right now," she teased, hoping to distract him from asking her any questions.

Jack cleared his throat. "I don't remember you being quite so care free when it came to your modesty, love." He said as he slowly moved toward her. As much as it pained him to keep quiet and as much as the thought of anyone laying a hand on her filled him with a boiling rage not even the devil could stop, he wouldn't dare ask about what happened. She would talk about it when she was ready. He knew her well enough to know that she would rather have kept those scars hidden. Elizabeth hated showing her vulnerabilities about as much as he did. Peas in a bloody pod.

"I'm hardly in the presence of strangers, besides I know you'll behave yourself," she said softly, turning to face him, only to find him mere inches away. Her breath hitched, startled by his closeness.

"You're certain of that?" he asked darkly, the warmth of his breath ghosting upon her face. After all of these years, he was still drawn to her like a moth to the flame, scars or no scars, husband or no husband.

"I am." She said raising her chin to him, staring him down, daring him. The tired lines around her eyes betrayed her feeble show of bravery. Whatever had happened to her, she had been through hell and back. The cuts and bruises on her face were proof enough without having seen the rest of her, and the thought made Jack's skin prickle.

"I'm going to kill him, Lizzie. That you can be certain of," he said bringing his hand to her cheek. It was a simple, resolute statement not often heard from the mouth of Jack Sparrow. He was not a malicious man like most other pirates, ending a man's life was always more of a last resort, but he found he genuinely wanted to cause the Commodore bodily harm.

Elizabeth gave him a soft smile. The sentiment of such a declaration was not lost on her, she could see the seriousness with which he spoke and it filled her heart knowing he'd go to such lengths in her defense, but she was not in the habit of letting anyone fight her battles.

"Not if I kill him first," she said turning her face away from his touch. Moving past him, she went back to the tub and began to ring the excess water from her hair as Jack looked on. The tunic was far too big, but it clung to her body just so, edging slightly up her thigh with every movement. Jack couldn't decide if she was taunting him on purpose or was just too tired to care. Either way, he was forced to exercise a great deal of restraint as she moved about the cabin.

"So, what was it you were raving on about as you burst in here unannounced?" she asked, interrupting his musings and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Oh… Well, my purpose was twofold, actually." Running his hand over the back of his neck, he took a deep breath and continued. "First, I came to say 'm sorry"

He said it so softly, Elizabeth hardly believed she heard it at all. "Beg your pardon?" she asked

"I came to say I'm sorry," he articulated more clearly. "I was being…"

"An ass?" she offered.

"Unfair," he emphasized "to you earlier. So. I'm sorry for that," he said before paying a fair amount of attention to his fingernails.

"What was the other thing?" she asked after he'd stayed silent a few more moments.

"Hm?" He asked looking up.

"You said your purpose was twofold so what was the other thing?"

"Ah, right. Well, I was thinking, since you seem to find yourself without a ship and a place to go, maybe you might want to stay…on the Pearl…with me…or rather…us? I only mean…Shipwreck Cove doesn't need to be your only option," he stammered uncharacteristically.

Elizabeth smiled at his fumbling. "Jack, are you certain? I don't think the Pearl can survive having two Captains aboard again."

"Captains?" He cleared his throat "Now hold on a moment, I didn't mean…" He put his hands up and was ready to clarify his statement, but Elizabeth chuckled lightly, interrupting him as she got to her feet.

"Jack. If you'll have me, I'd be happy to sail under your command." She placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "Captain, you're blushing," she teased when she pulled back, taking note of his bashful smile before spinning on her heel to turn down the bed linens.

Jack grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back toward him, embracing her tightly. Her breath caught as he stared deeply into her eyes before capturing her mouth in a ravenous kiss. She gave a soft moan in surprise and Jack gently ran his hands up her arms, steadily gripping her shoulders as he deepened the kiss. In a feverish lapse of judgement, Elizabeth returned the kiss, clutching the fabric of Jack's shirt in order to maintain her balance. He moved a hand up the back of her neck and into the wet strands of hair, pulling back gently while the other hand edged toward the hem of her tunic. Just as his fingers grazed the soft skin beneath the fabric, Elizabeth gasped and regained enough sense to push herself away and break the kiss, cursing herself for her weakness in this man's presence.

"Jack," she breathed, staring down at her hands resting on his chest. However desperate she was for the intimacy…she had a vow to keep, "I can't…we can't…"

"I know. I'm sorry. I couldn't resist," he smiled at her roguishly, running his hand down her arm, his eyes focused on her swollen lips.

"Are you certain you want me to stay?" she asked, eyes downcast.

Jack lifted her chin with his finger. "I'm certain." His eyes were smoldering. It took every ounce of strength Elizabeth had not to kiss him again and he knew it too. "You should get some sleep." He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead before heading for the door.

"Jack," she stopped him before he exited the room. "Thank you." It was a paltry gesture considering all she was thankful for: For rescuing her, for giving up his immortality for her, for understanding her inside and out, for letting her stay aboard after everything she'd done to him…for loving her she supposed, though he'd never say it.

"Anytime, love." He smiled and closed the door behind him. His actions said enough.

Elizabeth smiled after him. Chewing on her bottom lip, she climbed into bed and let sleep claim her at last.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack had remained at the helm all night, keeping them well ahead of the Commodore who was in hot pursuit. A vague speck on the horizon was all that remained of the Commodore's navy, allowing Jack to relax, albeit only slightly. His encounter with Elizabeth the night before did little to rest his nerves. He couldn't fathom how he could possibly be expected to act the part of a gentleman when she kissed him like that.

Gibbs joined him at the helm around midday. "Shall I order Cotton to the helm, Cap'n? You look like you could use a rest."

"I'll sleep when I know we are well clear of Carrington, but I'd be glad for a break," he said relinquishing the helm, and heading down the quarter deck steps.

Gibbs waved Cotton over in a hurried manner before following Jack to the main deck.

"No sign of Her Majesty?" Jack asked leaning against the gunwale, allowing the breeze to wash over his features.

"She remains abed."

"Just as well, don't think she'll be of much use as she recovers. Be a dear and take her something to eat. I'm sure she's famished."

"Already done, Sir. I left a tray by her bedside at first light." Gibbs said triumphantly.

"Entering into a Lady's chamber uninvited, Mr. Gibbs? I'm astounded at your lack of propriety," Jack feigned incredulity.

"Lucky for you, Mr. Gibbs, I tossed propriety to the wind long ago," Elizabeth interrupted. "And I was grateful to find sustenance awaiting me when I woke." She smiled as Jack and Gibbs had both turned in unison toward the Pirate King. She was dressed in the borrowed clothes Jack had supplied her with. She still favored her leg and the dark circles under her eyes remained, but her smile was sincere.

"Tis my pleasure, Miss. Glad to see you up and about. I best be seeing to further preparations if we're to arrive in Tortuga by nightfall." Gibbs shuffled away awkwardly.

"Tortuga?" She asked curiously. "Do you really think we have enough of a head start to stop so soon?" The slight tremor in her voice gave Jack a small amount of pause, but he soon decided he was only imagining it.

"The men are in desperate need of some shore leave, having cut our previous trip short. We also spent weeks surveying Port Royal's harbor in order to safely retrieve her royal highness, so we are a bit short on supplies as well," He smirked at her, noticing how she nervously rapped her fingers upon the railing as she gazed behind the ship.

"We should put as much distance as we can between us and Carrington, the men can fulfill their needs in another port," she said sternly. Jack realized perhaps he hadn't imagined the tremor in her voice.

"There aren't many pirate friendly ports between here and Cartegena," he offered casually. Jack hoped the unusual heading was enough to distract her from worries.

She snapped her head toward him, a small gleam of excitement in her eye. "Why are we sailing to Cartegena?" she asked with underlying suspicion.

Jack smiled, relieved he could take her mind, if only momentarily, off of the Commodore. "Perhaps we can discuss this further in a quieter space," he said placing his hand on the small of her back and pushing her toward his cabin. "Not everyone is privy to the same information as the captain. Savvy?"

"Surely you trust your crew better than all that?" she chided as she let him guide her toward the cabin.

"I trust only one person on this ship…"

"I'm flattered."

"…and that's Mr. Gibbs," he said over the top of her, with a bashful grin.

"I see. Well, then I should consider myself doubly flattered that without trusting me, you find yourself able to trust me with whatever information you seem unable to trust anyone else with." She lauded, unfazed as she walked toward the table in the center of the room.

"You're not making any sense at all, love. Perhaps a bit more food is in order?" he suggested.

"I'm not hungry, but I'll take some rum…if you've any left." She mocked his drinking habits playfully, but there was no hiding the complete exhaustion in her voice. No doubt the thoughts toiling around in her head were taking a terrible toll on her, leaving Jack no other option than to lift her spirits the only way he knew how. He handed her a bottle of rum and marveled as she swallowed nearly half of it in one go.

"Have I mentioned lately how much more I enjoy this Lizzie than the Lizzie who burned me rum all those years ago?" He beamed at her, laying out a few maps on the table in front of them.

"I've always been this Lizzie. Merely unexplored." She waved him off, touching her lips to the bottle.

"You know…I can help with said exploration." He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaning against the table next to her.

"That's quite all right. I can manage just fine on my own," she teased, licking a few stray drops of rum from her lips before setting the bottle down in front of her.

Instantly Jack's mouth ran dry as he stared at her slack-jawed. Elizabeth returned his gaze with a wicked smile. She was a bloody siren, to say the least, teasing him and pushing him to the brink just to watch him squirm while she clung to her blasted honor like shit to a shovel.

"So?" Elizabeth broke the long silence, finding great amusement in rendering him speechless. For all of the times Jack caught her unawares, it was only fair to return the favor.

"So?" He cleared his throat, having forgotten why he'd brought her into his cabin in the first place.

"Cartegena? Do you have some sort of death wish?" she asked with mock seriousness. "What's after you this time?"

Jack spun back toward the table. "Time is, I'm afraid. The world is changing and I don't fancy spending the rest of my days running from the noose. I'd like to sail the seas as a truly free man. So Cartegena is merely a stopping point on our way here." He said unrolling a tattered map written mostly in Spanish.

Her eyes widened, shining bright as a diamond upon recognizing the parchment. "You found it," she said in disbelief turning toward him. "But how? It was lost to the sea along with Captain Roberts."

"Merely a tale."

"I can't believe you never stopped searching for it…after all of this time?" she looked at him with surprise admiration.

"What else was I to do?" he shrugged.

Elizabeth gave him a half smile and turned her attention back to the map. "The Lost City of Gold," she whispered wistfully. "An adventure truly befitting of the Great Captain Jack Sparrow, though I don't think any amount of gold will keep the Navy off of your back. You're still a wanted man, Jack," she snickered, poking his chest with the stem of her bottle

"Oh? And who might I ask is doing the wanting?" he leered, grabbing her wrist before she could pull away, his eyes boring into her own.

She evaded his flirtations, withdrawing her hand from his grasp and deflected the conversation back to a more serious topic. "Carrington for a start. He saw you on the battlements, he saw the Pearl. He's not a man to be plied with the material and he'll kill anyone in his path."

"Every man has a price he'd be willing to sell himself for," he argued.

"He answers only to God, I assure you." Elizabeth pushed the old map out of the way in order to survey Jack's map of Caribbean waters.

"He frightens you," he observed carefully.

"Of course he bloody frightens me. A man of faith lives without fear, a man who lives without fear is the most dangerous of all." She was nearly shaking as she spoke of him.

"I never imagined I would see the Pirate King shaking in her boots," he teased, trying to bring levity to her current state, but only managed to incite more frustration from Elizabeth.

"He took everything from me, everything that I had left. My crew, my ship, and my pride has taken a good ribbing for all that it's worth. He won't relent until every single one of us has answered for our sins. A fate far worse than death I assure you. I'll not be landing into his clutches again. Nor do I wish it upon any of you." She took a long pull from the bottle of rum in her hand and slammed it down on the table, her breathing slightly ragged.

Jack wondered how much more she wasn't saying about her imprisonment. He'd never seen Elizabeth so unnerved. Approaching her slowly, he rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. She was startled momentarily at the contact, but quickly relaxed into his touch.

"Lizzie, darling. He's leagues behind us. You're safe here. You know that," he whispered lowly.

She mustered up a smile that he almost believed was genuine.

She turned toward him. "More than I could ever hope to know. But we have to tread carefully now. He's not a reasonable man, Jack. Don't think for one moment you could talk your way out of trouble should we be caught." Her eyes darkened noticeably, fear mixed with anger and…something else…and she found herself once again having to refrain from falling into his arms.

"Did you have another port in mind?" he asked sincerely.

She took a deep breath and stared at the map for a few minutes before answering. "Let's assume, the Commodore is as savvy as he believes himself to be. He's likely sent ships north and south of Jamaica, hoping to corner us before we reach the eastern coast and well before we'd reach Tortuga. We'd be followed into the bay and he'd set the island aflame without a second glance."

"But the wind has been on our side, and none can outrun The Pearl. We lost sight of his ships not long before you woke. The likelihood of them following us into Tortuga is slim to none. Not to mention, I know a few places we can stow the pearl from public view." He offered.

"Still, I'd rather not draw him directly into one of the last pirate havens. If we must stop, let's consider Port-de-Paix."

"Port-de-Paix? That's your better option?" he asked with a skeptical brow raised.

"It's French territory. Carrington will give it a wide birth, and besides, most don't consider it a port worth sacking."

"It's not a port worth sacking because most are lucky to leave with their lives at all."

"I've heard the stories. Surely your crew is formidable enough to survive one evening?"

"I'm not certain it's worth the risk of finding out. Not to mention, I doubt the lads would take too kindly to the idea."

"It's your ship, Captain, do what you wish."

"Let me talk it over with them and see if they're up for it. Make yourself at home. I'll be back in a tick."

Elizabeth gave a deep sigh after he left and smiled to herself, thinking on his last words. There was no need to make herself at home. This was her home. She would have to do Jack the favor of telling him that someday, she thought. She walked over to his desk and sat down, perusing the items littered across the top. There were more maps and charts than any one pirate would know what to do with. He'd clearly searched the entire world for this map. Beneath the maps were a few different wanted posters with unflattering depictions of Jack's likeness which forced a chuckle from her lips. She opened a few of the drawers and rummaged through the odd trinket here or there until stumbling upon another wanted poster, this one with her name upon it, held in place by one, very infuriating piece of navigational equipment. She pulled out the compass and put it out on the desk in front of her, staring at it intently, willing it to open itself. It remained closed of course, though she knew what it would point to. The door knob began to turn, and she quickly covered the compass with a few maps, and promptly propped her feet up upon the desk with all the guilt of a child with their hand caught in a cookie jar.

"Getting into my things, were you? I said make yourself at home, love, not stake your claim upon my cabin," he teased.

"I would never, Captain Sparrow," she said placing her feet back on the floor.

"Find anything particularly interesting?" he asked.

"Nothing of note. So what did they say?" she deflected quickly.

With a grimace he gave her all the answer she needed.

"Very well, just be sure they make quick work of their time ashore. Now, tell me how it is you plan to enter Cartagenan waters without being detected," she demanded eagerly, rising from her seat to move toward the other table.

Jack squinted his eyes at her as she moved, and proceeded to explain his plan.

"I know the harbor master. Owes me a favor from the old days. We slip in late in the evening, he accounts for the ship, Gibbs stays behind with some of the younger, less weathered lads and play the part of respectable merchant sailors. Meanwhile, we take a small crew inland to get to this river." He pulled the old tattered map back to over the other maps and pointed to the river that would lead them toward the supposed city.  
"And your harbor master has enough time to gather the appropriate papers, seals, and whatever else the Spanish check for these days?" Elizabeth scrunched her nose as she scrutinized both maps. She sat there with brows furrowed until her mouth split into a sly smile.

"What is it?" Jack asked impatiently waiting for her to say something else.

"Might I suggest an alternate course?" she said absently staring at the map.

"By all means…" Jack folded his arms, and rolled his eyes.

"We can bypass Cartagena altogether. The mouth of your river empties into the ocean here" She said tapping a finger on the map. "We can haul off in the longboats there and Gibbs can find the Pearl a more suitable hiding spot rather than attempt to hide her in plain view in the middle one of the most heavily armed forts owned by the Spanish Navy."

It was Jack's turn to scrunch up his face as he looked over her suggestion. Her idea was not without merit, and soon his scowl turned into a smile. "Alright, your highness, you win this one."

"I'm not trying to win. I'm just trying not to get us killed," she said matter of factly.

Jack gave a hearty laugh at her expense.

"What on earth is so funny?" she asked in a huff.

"When have you ever made a decision that hasn't immediately resulted in a near death experience for either one of us?" He continued to laugh as she scowled at him.

"Ha bloody ha ha." She said folding her arms across her chest. "As I said, it's your ship, Captain, do as you wish, but leave me out of it," she spouted defensively, heading toward the cabin door.

Jack quickly caught her arm before she reached it. "Lizzie, darling, I'm only teasing," he said bringing a hand to her face. "But you must have a little more faith in me. Who am I?" he asked with a wink.

"Jack," she exhaled in exasperation turning her face away.

Jack turned her chin back toward him. "Who am I?" he urged her again to answer his question.

She stared down her nose at him in mock irritation, trying very hard not to laugh at his bemusing expression. "You're a damned fool," she laughed, playfully pushing him away. She waltzed to the table and gulped down more of the sweet brown liquor to calm the flush that was creeping upon her cheeks.

"Maybe have another swig or two. I haven't seen you this wound since the days you insisted I refer to you as Miss Swann," he suggested when she set the bottle down.

"A simpler time. When trivialities like marriage were of my utmost concern," she stated with false wistfulness.

"Marriage is a triviality now, is it? I suppose that's good news for me. Not so much for the whelp."

"Jack," she scolded.

"I'm sorry, love. You know being around you does funny things to me," he said half seriously.

"I do know. One minute you're teasing me, the next you're screaming at me, in another instant you're pouting like an insufferable child, and after that you're liable to gut a man for looking at me the wrong way. I'd say your behavior around me is the furthest thing from predictable," she snickered as she leaned against the table.

"Yes, well, one hardly knows what's flittering across your own devilish mind from one moment to the next," he muttered.

Elizabeth paused. She had hoped Jack might have let her little indiscretion from the previous night slip by them. "I'm sorry for that. For last night. I shouldn't have…I wasn't quite myself," she said sadly, for it was a lie of the highest caliber and she reckoned he knew as much.  
"Right, of course you weren't," he stated with bitter nonchalance as he stood from his seat. "Think nothing of it." Jack sloughed off his coat and boots and flopped down upon his berth. "Off with you now, the Captain needs his sleep."

"Oh,"she said in surprise. She hadn't expected such a quick dismissal and didn't know quite what to do with herself, so she stayed unmoving in the center of the room.

"Was there something more you were needing from me?" he asked harshly from the bed.

"N-no. I…um…no." She stammered before finding her way back on deck. She leaned against the cabin door and sighed. Could they really survive such a lengthy journey dancing around each other at every turn? Elizabeth had her doubts, but time would tell and for now her focus was getting them in and out of Tortuga as quickly as possible.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite Gibbs's insistence she rest, Elizabeth spent the majority of the day in the crow's nest with her eyes permanently fixed on the horizon behind them. Jack was correct, they'd lost Carrington's convoy some time before dawn, but she couldn't shake the terrible feeling that the commodore was somehow a step ahead of them. So she stayed put, refusing meals and offers of a change in shift from the other crew members in case sails could be spotted in the distance.

It wasn't long after she'd left his cabin that Jack came strolling back out on deck, sleep having apparently evaded him. She spied on him from her perch as he marched straight to the helm to relieve Cotton, all traces of ire gone from his features, and she was hopeful it was a true reflection of his current mood. Oh how she wished she would have just kept her mouth shut before he so tersely asked her to vacate his cabin. He had only been teasing her before, but if she didn't do her part in keeping him at some distance, there would be nothing to stop her from breaking her vows…repeatedly.

She felt a blush creep upon her cheeks and was so lost in thought she didn't notice his gaze catch hers until it was too late. She ducked rather ungracefully back into her bucket and turned her focus back on the horizon. She fully anticipated a mercilessly mocking smile to appear over the side of the nest at any moment, but when none came she grew moderately disheartened.

Instead it was Marty who made two more attempts to relieve her of her duties, but Elizabeth refused. The crows nest was the only place she was useful for the time being and it offered her some time alone to think of how she and Jack could coexist without her hurting him at every turn. Her presence aboard the Pearl was already having an adverse effect on his temperament and her behavior the night previous didn't exactly help their current situation. These were the very reasons she'd left the Pearl in the first place. The truth was, being around Jack did funny things to her as well, and more often than not her self control was the greatest victim.

It was sunset when a red bandana finally peered over the side of her roost, handing her a bottle of rum as a flag of truce.

"Had I known you were going to stay up here permanently, I would have let Gibbs keep his cabin," he joked as he balanced himself in the rigging, leaning on his arms against the side of the bucket.

"I rather like the view," she stated softly before letting out a small yawn.

"A tired watch is as good as having no watch at all, and you're not going to will Carrington away by spending the entire day staring at the horizon."

"I might. Perhaps I'm some kind of witch," she mused, taking a sip from her bottle as she gave him a sideways smirk, knowing full well he wouldn't miss an opportunity to confirm such an observation.

Jack cracked a sly smile. "Oh, you are, my dear girl. Of that I have no doubt. Regardless, I think it's time you stop hiding up here and come down for a bit. Marty is a dreadful bore and terrible with knots and would serve us all better at his assigned post."

"I'm not hiding," she battled back.

"No?"

"No," she said resolutely. She took a deep breath, working up the courage to get out her next words. "I just thought…maybe…it might be better if I were out of the way for the time being. In fact, I was thinking perhaps I should be left to the Cove after all. You should make the venture to El Dorado without me." She wouldn't look him in the eye as the words left her mouth, afraid she would see agreement in his eyes when she so badly wanted to stay. But she could reason no other option. Life was unfair and unbearably cruel, much like love.

"And what sort of nonsense is this?" he exclaimed, throwing one leg into the crows nest before climbing in entirely. "Is that the conclusion you've come to sitting up here all day? That I don't want you here? That you'd be better off stewing in those rotting, hulking masses gathering barnacles in the cove? That any hope of an amicable existence betwixt us has been forever tainted by your actions the last time you were aboard this ship? That after a few minor disagreements thus far, we lack enough control to sail upon the same vessel without wanting to throttle each other in whichever lascivious manner you're imagining? I'll admit the thought did cross my mind," Jack crossed his arms and leaned against the mast as he followed her gaze into the horizon.

Elizabeth fixed him with a glare that tried so desperately to encompass some sort of offense, but was instead ready to burst out laughing at any moment. How was it that they knew each other's minds so well?

Jack interrupted her musings with his finished thought, "But what self respecting pirate doesn't appreciate a good challenge every now and again? We've been up against more difficult obstacles." He turned toward her with soft, apologetic eyes, pleading for her to stay.

She turned to him, softening at once as she bore witness to his puppy dog stare. "I don't want to hurt you, Jack, and yet over and over it seems to be all I am capable of doing." Elizabeth brought her focus back to her lap.

"I don't exactly make it easy on you, love," Jack offered.

"No, you certainly don't," she chuckled. "You should hate me."

"I could never hate you, 'Lizabeth. Believe me, I've tried." He was staring off into the distance again, trying his hardest not to look at her, trying not to see her reaction.

"That's part of the problem, is it not?" she mused.

Jack laughed and nodded in agreement. A hush came over them for a few moments and Jack spoke again, "If you really want to leave, I won't stop you, but know that I'm not asking you to either."

"I've never wanted to leave. It's just…" she couldn't find the words to finish her sentence. They both knew what stood between them, what had always stood between them. If things had gone differently, her staying or going wouldn't even be up for debate.

Jack sank down to his knees and hooked a finger beneath her chin, pulling her focus toward him. "I promise as long as you're on my ship, all untoward advances and remarks will be kept to a respectable minimum."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed as she gave him a pointed stare.

"I am still human after all," he amended with a shrug.

"Fair enough, and I suppose while onboard your ship I can promise not to give you a reason to make such remarks."

"Square deal. You'll stay then?"

"Aye, if you're going to beg me," she teased him, winning her a pointed glare in response.

"Breaking our promises already, are we?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Pirate." She shrugged.

"Come on," he held a hand out to her. "There's dinner in the mess, you should eat. You look more emaciated than usual."

"Such a charmer, you are," she managed to eek out a genuine laugh at the infuriatingly handsome captain.

Elizabeth put her hand in his and moved to stand, but collapsed back onto her rear unceremoniously as a sharp tingling shot through her legs.

"Something the matter?" he asked with a touch more concern than he meant to let on.

"I've been sitting up here for so long, it appears my legs have lost feeling," she laughed, feeling a bit ridiculous.

"Ah well. Then I guess it is the crows nest for you. I'll have dinner brought up to you. Maybe a blanket or two." Jack threw his leg over the edge of her bucket as he made to climb down.

"Jack," she pleaded. "You don't mean to just leave me here, do you?"

"Without use of your legs, I don't see what good you'll do on deck."

"Jack."

"What is it you expect me to do, carry you down?"

She smiled cheekily at him. "If you're offering"

"I certainly was not."

"Well, at least help me up."

With a grand roll of mirth filled eyes, he came back to her side. "I believe I tried to do just that not a few moments ago."

"Perhaps both hands will do the trick."

Holding out his hands for her to grab, he gave a firm pull, lifting her to her feet. She stumbled into him slightly nearly sending them both over the side, but fortunately Jack managed to keep them both upright.

"Easy there," Jack said steadying her in his arms.

"Sorry," responded Elizabeth with a wince as the blood rushed back to her feet. Instinctively, she had wrapped her arms around his waist when she lost her balance and as she stood in his embrace, pressed her head to his chest, letting out small steady breaths as the feeling returned to her legs. "I'm so sorry, Jack," she exhaled against him. There was no need to enumerate all of the things for which she was sorry, there was only one that mattered and it had little to do with the Kraken.

Jack brought one of his hands to rest on the back of her head, clutching her a little more tightly to him. They stayed that way for several moments longer than necessary, but it was so easy to be held by one another that it was difficult to let go. It had to have been pure insanity on both of their parts to make them think this could work…no one was coming out of this with hearts intact.

Jack reluctantly pulled away, prying her off him gently by the shoulders. "Back to normal?" he asked of her. She knew he was referring to the state of her legs, but couldn't help but to equate it to their own mixed up friendship.

"Hardly," she laughed uneasily. "But I can manage," she added, shaking her legs one at a time.

With a curt nod, Jack made swift work of his climb down the rigging, and watched intently as Elizabeth made a significantly slower jaunt down the ratlines. When she reached the deck, Jack slipped behind the mast and returned with a bundle of cloth beneath his arm and a sword in hand. He handed them to her and she looked at the items inquisitively.

"We should reach Tortuga by tomorrow evening. One should never be unarmed when walking through that pirate underbelly at night, and I couldn't help but notice you are quite without your effects. These are yours until you get yourself some clothing that fits you proper and a weapon more suited to your style."

"Thank you, Jack." She smiled sadly before turning on her heel and heading below deck in a flurry, a faint glistening of tears upon her cheek as she fled.

Jack watched her as she disappeared down the steps, a strange expression upon his face as he grasped at his chest. It was an ache he'd never experienced before, a tightening fist around his heart, squeezing the life from him, sucking the breath from his lungs. It made him feel empty. One would think it was he who should have carved out his heart instead of Turner.

Picking up his discarded bottle of rum and taking a mighty swig, Jack headed to the helm to clear his head. It was the only place in existence where he was able to quiet his own thoughts.

"Captain!" shouted Marty from the ship's as he ran toward the quarter deck.

"What is it?" Jack groaned, irritated by the instant interruption.

"Sails. On the horizon, just there," the lookout pointed south of them.

"It's not possible," Jack exclaimed in disbelief as he spotted the same bit of fabric in the distance. "Do me a favor, Marty. Keep this to yourself. No sense in getting the King all riled up."

"Aye, Captain, but what are we going to do?" Marty asked with genuine worry.

"Leave that to me," Jack muttered with lightning focus as he pulled the wheel hard to change their course.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

"Sails. On the horizon, just there."

Of all the terrible luck…Why was she always right?

Jack had altered their course just slightly to utilize as much of the wind as possible, but the ship in question was still hot on their heels. Jack took out his spyglass in order to get a better look at the pursuant ship. For but a brief moment, he was relieved. It was not one of Carrington's ships as he originally feared, but the ship to whom it did belong was not necessarily the better alternative.

Gibbs came up to the helm in a panic. "Who is it, Cap'n? Enemies?" he asked.

"To be determined," Jack responded, stowing his spyglass.

"What are our orders, then?" Gibbs asked eagerly.

"Coax as much speed from these sails as you can and hopefully we lose them, but just in case have a few men on the guns," Jack commanded, though he knew there was no hope of staying ahead.

"Aye, Cap'n."

It was an honest effort made to outrun the other ship, but to no avail. After hours of sailing with the best of the wind at their backs, the ship had come within firing range. They would have to face the other ship, loathe as Jack was to do so.

To everyone's great relief, the skiff fired a signal cannon just short of the Pearl.

"They wish to come aboard, Captain. Peacefully." Marty yelled from the crow's nest.

Jack sighed resignedly, "Signal them aboard."

"What's going on?" Elizabeth asked breathlessly, having raced from her quarters. "I heard cannon fire. Is it Carrington?"

Jack rolled his eyes. Of course she would appear on deck right at this moment. He didn't want her anywhere near this meeting, but as always he had little control…over anything. "No, love. Nothing to fret over just yet, but we are being boarded," he said casually.

"What?!" She screeched and planted her fists firmly upon her hips.

Again Jack rolled his eyes and laid a placating hand upon her shoulder. "Lizzie, dear, it's an old acquaintance of mine. I have no reason to suspect any foul play." Except that he had many reasons to suspect such a thing, but she didn't need to know that.

"Old acquaintance, hm? I don't suppose you owe them any money?" She asked with only a slight amount of venom.

"For once, I don't. At least, not that I can remember," Jack shrugged.

"That makes me feel loads better," she muttered.

"Perhaps it would be best if you waited in my cabin until we are rid of our uninvited guest," he suggested.

"I'll do no such thing."

"Why is it so difficult for you to obey an order?"

"Why do you insist on treating me as if I'm in need of your protection?"

"It's not you I'm protecting," he blurted out.

"And what exactly are you implying?"

"How can I put this delicately? When you open your mouth, things have a tendency to…" Jack mimicked the sound of an explosion while miming such an explosion with his hands. "A silent Elizabeth is the least offensive Elizabeth, and, in this instance, I'd rather your tongue not get the lot of us killed, alright?"

"Of all the outrageous, insufferable…"

"Jackie Boy!" boasted a rakish captain with excitement as he landed ever so gracefully upon the Pearl's deck interrupting what was sure to be a very loud tirade.

"Please do us all a favor, keep your mouth shut and listen to me just this once," Jack whispered to Elizabeth out of the side of his mouth. "Nathaniel! It's been too long. I'll admit I was expecting someone else." Jack embraced the man with familial familiarity, but maintained a cautious approach as he left behind a rather disgruntled Elizabeth.

"I'm sure you were. Fortunately for you, it's just me," he whispered. "You look well for a dead man," the man observed.

"At the very least, I look better than you," Jack teased.

Clearly an old joke among friends as the man before her was as perfect a specimen as she'd ever seen. Taller than most men she'd met, Elizabeth couldn't help but notice the handsome visage upon the stranger in front of her and his near perfect, bulging, muscular stature. He appeared to have been all but carved from marble; a living, breathing Adonis. Sun bronzed skin, less scarred than Jack's, sun bleached hair tied loosely into a queue, blue eyes, chiseled cheeks, brilliant smile. He was not the kind of pirate she was used to dealing with, assuming of course that he was a pirate.

His piercing eyes caught hers over Jack's shoulder and he immediately made his way over to her. No one was more surprised than her when her breath hitched ever so slightly.

"And who is this delectable creature? A beauty such as yourself surely doesn't belong with the likes of such scoundrels," he said, grabbing her hand and placing his lips gently to her knuckles as he bowed before her.

Caught off guard at the gentlemanly display, Elizabeth looked up at him and whispered inadvertently, "My god, you're huge," and let out an involuntary giggle that sent a flush to her cheeks, a cheeky grin to the face of Jack's friend, and caused Jack's eyes to widen in disbelief.

"No one," Jack cut in quickly. He figured Elizabeth to have still been in a weakened state, for she'd never behaved so ridiculously around men. At least as far as Jack was aware. Even when he got the better of her in their flirtations, she managed to maintain an uncanny stoicism. No longer able to trust she'd do as he asked in her apparent bewilderment in the presence of a moderately un-homely man, Jack stepped between the two, "merely a doxy I picked up a while back."

Elizabeth's head snapped toward him as quickly as a loose piece of wind whipped rigging, and he winced at the sight. He had no doubt he'd pay for that remark later.

His oldest friend, however, was not convinced. "Jackie, don't pull my leg. She's a treasure, and I know for a fact you're not in the habit of traveling with whores. Who did you swipe her from? A governor? A Commodore? A king?" Nathaniel asked, attempting to keep his gaze upon Elizabeth.

"I assure you, she's no one of importance," Jack persisted.

Elizabeth was seething. Her face growing red at every ensuing comment from Jack's despicable mouth, steam was spewing from her eyes, ears, nostrils, anywhere from which steam could escape.

Nathaniel stepped around Jack. "Well, mystery girl, it's a pleasure to meet you all the same. Do you have a name?" he asked of her.

Jack stood behind Nathaniel giving her nonverbal signals, violently shaking his head, hoping beyond all hope she wouldn't say her name.

Centering herself as much as she could, Elizabeth spoke the first name that popped into her head. "Emily," she answered flatly with a feigned smile, shooting daggers at Jack when she knew Nathaniel wasn't looking.

"Nathaniel Hawkins at your service," he said grabbing her hand again, slowly rubbing his thumb along her knuckles. She raised her eyes to his only to find him eyeing her salaciously. Elizabeth blushed again and pulled her hand away quickly.

"So, what brings you to the Caribbean, and more importantly, onto my ship?" Jack mercifully interjected once again, wrapping his arm around Nathaniel and steering him in the opposite direction of the befuddled Elizabeth, having had more than enough of the interaction between the two.

"Trade mostly; rum, spices and all that. But in my travels, I heard a very curious story: Jack Sparrow met his doom and was taken down to Davy Jones' Locker, the Pearl along with him. So, you can imagine my surprise seeing black sails on the horizon and you at the helm."

"What can I say? The locker simply could not contain the great Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack boasted.

A loud snort echoed behind them, causing both men to turn towards Elizabeth who turned her gaze away quickly.

"You escaped?"

"With naught but my wits, grit, and a couple of crabs, I figured my way out, ship in tact and my debt to jones unequivocally settled."

"Oh please," chimed in Elizabeth from behind them, unable to contain her silence any longer in this charade. "You'd still be stewing in your self made madness had I not come for you."

"You?" Nathaniel asked in shock. "Now that sounds like a tale I'd be most interested in hearing."

"Did you believe for a moment that Captain Jack "relies on far too much luck" Sparrow could get himself out of the locker without any outside help?"

"Of course I didn't. So what really happened?" Nathaniel turned to her, eager to listen to Elizabeth spin her yarn.

"It took me and a crew of thirty to find our way to World's End and no less than thirty to find our way out."

"Well, if we're splitting hairs here, I was in fact the one who figured out how to get us out of the locker lest we all were to become permanent fixtures in that barren wasteland. And I feel it bears reminding that you would not have had to come for me, if you hadn't been so kind as to send me there in the first place" Jack responded quickly, the familiar argument between the two a well rehearsed dance of banter.

"Her?" Nathaniel asked again, hitching his thumb toward Elizabeth. "Emily was it?" he eyed her suspiciously. "Oh, Jack. Brought to your knees by a pretty girl. I'm surprised at you," Nathaniel teased his old friend.

"I'm far more than a pretty girl, thank you." Elizabeth interjected haughtily as she moved toward the two men. Her level of agitation continuing to rise as the conversation between these two men continued.

Nathaniel turned toward her with feline quickness, flashing a wicked grin. "Is that right?" After giving Elizabeth a lingering look, Nathaniel turned back toward Jack. "See, when I heard the tale of your misfortunes, Jack, I heard it was a high-born Governor's daughter turned pirate what sent you to your watery grave. Elizabeth something or other. You voted her Pirate King, if I'm not mistaken. A fearsome foe and siren if ever there was one. Surely, not this wisp of a thing."

"I wouldn't underestimate her. She's devious, this one, I assure you. You have to watch your back at all costs," Jack retorted loudly. An audible huff escaped Elizabeth's mouth and Nathaniel laughed heartily.

"Give it up, Jackie. Do you honestly expect me to believe her to be some insignificant waif what joined your crew? Why are you trying to hide the Pirate King from your oldest friend?"

"I'm not," Jack answered defensively.

"Oh, I see you're trying to keep me from her?"

"It's for your protection, trust me."

"My protection? No offense, your majesty, I am sure you have much to offer in the realms of pleasure, but I certainly wouldn't be fool enough to let my guard down for that pout," Nathaniel poked at her.

Elizabeth neutralized her expression at once when she realized she was, in fact, pouting. "Is that so?" She asked, hand on the hilt of her sword, anger rising to a point Jack knew wouldn't bode well for any of them.

"Though you're more than welcome to try," Nathaniel challenged her, a devilish smirk upon his face that would send a thrill through any warm bodied woman with a pulse.

"No, no. There'll be none of that," Jack interrupted pulling Elizabeth back by the shoulders as she made a move toward their newest guest. "You are aware that she belongs to the Captain of the Flying Dutchman, and he wouldn't hesitate to have us all crewing that cursed ship should anyone merely glance at her the wrong way. So keep your hands to yourself, mate."

Elizabeth had about all she could handle of Jack's ridiculousness. Jealous idiot. "Let's get one thing straight, Jack Sparrow," she had turned on him in an instant, red faced, a finger planted firmly to his chest, "I belong to no one. I'm the bloody Pirate King and I've had quite enough of the two of you speaking as if I wasn't present. And furthermore, Captain, I am fully capable of handling myself, so I'd thank you to fight your own bloody battles, and stay well out of mine. As for you, Mr. Hawkins, if you wish to cross blades with me to determine the worth of my mettle, all you have to do is ask." She flashed the man a wicked grin, turned on her heel and marched to the Captain's cabin, flustered and infuriated. Her decision to take up his quarters did not go unnoticed by Jack.

"Quite a woman." Nathaniel said cheekily as he watched Jack pinch the bridge of his nose.

"You've no idea," Jack responded tonelessly. He dropped his hand and returned his attention to his friend. "Perhaps we can finish this reunion over drinks once we've reached Tortuga, that is, if you're heading that way? We're a bit pressed for time and need to keep moving, and now I must deal with that," Jack said, indicating the blonde haired ball of anger that just left the deck.

"Belongs to the Flying Dutchman, aye? Don't worry, Jackie, I won't tell my sister," he laughed with a wink. "As it happens, I amheaded to Tortuga. Meet me at The Bryde. I'll have drinks waiting." Shaking Jack's hand once more, Nathaniel turned and made his way back to his ship.

Jack reluctantly turned toward his cabin and ran a hand over his face as he prepared to stem what was sure to be rather torrential argument.

Elizabeth paid him no attention when he walked into the cabin. She stood with her arms folded while staring out of the stern windows, intently focused on a falcon flying past.

Jack waited patiently for her to turn and admonish him for whatever he'd done wrong this time, but she said nothing. So, he sat at his desk and uncorked a bottle of rum while he waited a bit longer. She stayed at the window, obviously still seething. He swore he could hear her teeth grinding.

"Come on, let's have it," he said at last, exasperated with her continued silence.

"You are unbelievable," she accused him, finally turning to face him.

"Me?!" Jack exclaimed in genuine surprise. "It was a simple request; that you remain silent. I know you're not used to taking orders, but a child could follow as simple an order as that."

"How dare you!" she spat at him, edging closer as if she wanted to clock him across the face.

"You are aware that there is a significant bounty on your head, are you not?"

"But you had no right…" she stepped toward him, rage continuing to bubble.

"To what? Keep your identity from him in case he were to try to overtake the ship?"

"You said he was an acquaintance."

"A man I haven't seen in nearly a decade. I can't say I was too confident where his allegiances lie these days."

"He didn't seem so bad, beside his lack of manners."

"Oh yes I could see very much the impression he made on you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, come off it, darling. You were practically drooling over him."

"I was not. More like salivating at the chance to put my sword through his gut."

"Either way, he would chew you up and spit you out before you even knew what was happening."

Her frustration was reaching a fever pitch and she nearly screamed at him, "I am perfectly capable…"

"Of taking care of yourself, I know," he cut her off again, winning a growl from the incensed pirate king. Jack moved, backing her toward the windows, "I have the bloody words tattooed on my skull, but once again your stubborn inability to be seen as anything other than what you are has now given him leverage. And fawning over him, intended or not, is a perceived weakness, Lizzie, one he would gladly take advantage of if afforded the opportunity,"

"And what makes you so certain I'd afford him such an opportunity, hm?" she lifted her chin. "Do you believe me so morally dubious that I'd fall for the charms of a perfect stranger? Or is your ego so fragile you're more worried that I'd forsake all for him instead of you?" A well placed blow decidedly more insulting than she intended, but it achieved the desired effect. Jack's shoulders straightened and he held his fist clenched at his side as his eyes bore into her own.

Fragmented images danced quickly through his mind as he stared into her eyes, causing his breath to quicken in an instant: A wild tempest, empty bottles of rum rolling across the floor, her lips to his ear with a drunken confession, stolen kisses, bodies near tangled, frightened eyes, her silhouette disappearing against the rain, candles melted down to their wicks, and unfathomable emptiness. Taking a deep breath, he growled lowly, "I find it difficult to predict what you will or won't do."

She caught his meaning and it was undoubtedly true. Memories of a night spent in near splendor, a slip of the tongue, a lapse in judgement that she wished she could take back. But words cannot be unsaid any more than actions can be undone. Her eyes dropped to her hands as they wrung together nervously. He had every right to his jealousy and she had little right to insult him.

"You know, this is not the first time I've had such a conversation," she deflected softly. "I recall Will warning me similarly in regard to you." She raised her eyes to find that the sentiment had earned at least a small smile from Jack, and she smiled in turn.

"Not exactly a winning endorsement of your wills, love."

"Listen, I've been on my own for some time now, I've dealt with all manner of knaves and ne'er do wells, and rejected more advances than I care to mention. A pretty face, while wholly unexpected in our line of business, will not be my undoing…unless maybe it's yours," she tried to assure him, playfully cupping his face in her hand.

He closed his eyes and sighed, leaning into her touch ever so slightly, "Don't ask me to not look after you. It's not something that can be helped," he said resignedly.

"Oh you poor chap, don't tell me after all this time that Will managed to rub off on you," she teased him, running her thumb along his cheek before pulling her hand away.

He caught her hand before it reached her side and held it firmly in his. "We're to meet my old friend once we arrive in Tortuga, promise me you'll keep your opinions in check and, if you can help it, listen to me every once and again. I'm afraid he might be up to something, so we'll need to play things a bit closer to the vest. He may seem trustworthy, but he's the furthest thing from it."

"Heed your own advice, Captain. The more you let on that there is history between us, the more we can be used as leverage against the other," she scolded playfully.

"Pot. Kettle. Black, darling," he spoke resolutely. "I hardly think it was necessary to share the details of my soiree in the locker."

"I merely detailed your rescue. You were the one who clarified the means by which you arrived, thus outing my position over the Brethren…and over you." Elizabeth flashed a smug smile and attempted to pass him. He caught her upper arm and turned her back to him, grasping her with his other hand, holding her in place. His face inches away from her own, he looked down at her with all the hunger of a carnal beast.

"You're infuriating," he whispered brusquely, his mouth hovering just over hers. "I have half a mind to keep you tied up in here whilst we are ashore."

He let his hands wander in opposition, one trailing toward her neck and into her hair, the other snaked around her waist, and Elizabeth's traitorous body was unable to stop what was happening as she became putty in his hands. Thankfully, her voice had not yet retreated.

"Jack, we discussed this," she whispered as her gaze dropped from his smoldering eyes down to his lips, the heat between them inescapably palpable.

"How long did you really expect me to play by your rules, Love?" he whispered into her ear, sending a distinct shiver down her spine. She shuddered slightly and he could see gooseflesh appearing on her neck. Her elicited response won a triumphant smile from the rogue.

"Longer than a day, at least," she laughed shakily and landed a light punch to his chest, pushing herself away from his embrace. He let her go with little resistance.

Straightening her shoulders, she ambled quickly to the desk and took a rather deep swig from the opened bottle of rum. The sweet liquid burned away the nerves that were still taught and buzzing inside her. Handsome as Nathaniel may have been, no one made her feel the way Jack did with a mere glance, never mind when he had his hands upon her. She took a deep breath and began to calm, albeit very slowly.

"You strike a hard bargain," he muttered as he crossed the cabin to retrieve some rum for his own nerves, snatching the bottle from her hand.

"So, who is this Nathaniel Hawkins fellow and how did you come to be acquainted, and why do we suspect he is up to no good?" she asked of him as she leaned against the edge of his desk.

"A ship brat, same as meself. We grew up in the cove together. His father was feared as much as my own. The only difference betwixt us: he never was anything other than pirate. There's not much of an honest streak in that one. He nearly gutted me for joining the Company, but we came to an eventual understanding when I opted to not sink his ship in the middle of the Atlantic. He left the Caribbean not long after that, spent much of his time off the coast of Madagascar. I'm surprised to see him so far from home, his presence in the Caribbean is highly suspicious." Jack took another swig from his bottle before, walking over to the window.

"Maybe he returned knowing the Company has all but given up its efforts in stopping free trade," Elizabeth offered.

"Unlikely," he muttered, eyes focused on Nathaniel's ship as it began to pass them.

Elizabeth quietly moved to stand next to him, following his gaze out of the window. "You really don't trust him, do you?" she asked, startling him ever so slightly by her closeness.

"Of course not, he's a pirate," he glanced quickly in her direction while maintaining his gaze out on the water.

"Sound reasoning since I feel as if you are not telling me the whole story," she stood, arms folded, eyeing him suspiciously.

"It's the only part of the story that bears knowing," Jack turned and walked toward his desk, pulling out an extra pistol from a hidden compartment.

"Right," she retorted unconvinced as she watched him skittering about his cabin. "Well, I promise not to let him gut you."

"Thank you, love," He flashed her a genuine smile through his words, but his mind was racing with a small amount of panic. It's not him I'm afraid of.

"And if I can help it," she interrupted his musings, "I promise I'll make an attempt to listen to you."

Elizabeth flashed him a sickeningly sweet smile that won a small chuckle from Jack who was doing his best to focus only on the motives of his estranged friend.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**

They reached Tortuga by nightfall as expected. Elizabeth practically beamed when the dull glow of the city came into view. She never imagined such a derelict port would seem a paradise, but months of torture in a dungeon will do strange things to a person. Thoughts of a down bed and another bath didn't hurt matters either.

She argued rather shabbily against staying in Tortuga for the night, but Jack assured her that they would be well out of Carrington's view while also plying her with promises of fine amenities.

Keeping to his promise, Jack anchored the pearl in a cove far from the town proper. He allowed Nathaniel's ship to sail ahead, and took full advantage of keeping the Pearl's whereabouts unknown to him, and to Carrington as well.

Jack had ordered a small group of men to re-provision the ship, two or three men drew short straws to stay aboard and stand guard while the rest of them disembarked into longboats toward the seedy underbelly that was Tortuga.

Where most ports would have gone to sleep, when the sun went down in Tortuga, the town truly came alive. As Jack often said, the island was a proliferous bouquet of the most very basic human needs.

Torches and lanterns lined the darkened alleyways guiding travelers toward the numerous pubs and brothels, drunkards lay in puddles clutching their precious drink while women, painted an array of colors, advertised their wares to passers by. Elizabeth felt increasingly more at ease among her people: free men and women of enterprise and lowered inhibitions.

Most of the storefronts had long since closed for the evening forcing Elizabeth to wait until morning to retrieve all of the supplies she needed, so she and Jack made their way to the Neptune Inn, a particularly unassuming place of lodging attached to the Faithful Bryde.

"Tess, darling, it's good to see you out and about. Clive told me of your terrible sickness the last I was here," Jack greeted the Innkeeper's wife animatedly as they entered the establishment.

It was one of the nicer buildings on the island, Elizabeth had to admit. All of the wood trimmings and tables were of rich mahogany, carvings of nymphs and sea creatures were expertly laid into the front desk, and a grand chandelier hung in the center of the foyer. She'd never have figured the inn adjacent to one of the wildest taverns in Tortuga could boast such finery.

"For all the hurricanes and miscreants that have passed through these streets, I'd be damned if a sour throat would be my end," the formidable Tess responded. "You have impeccable timing, I just had the girls tend to your room this morning. Any special requests?" she asked looking between Jack and Elizabeth.

"We'll ned two rooms," Elizabeth blurted out, but quickly trained her gaze to the floor. "If you don't mind."

Tess let out a laugh, "No need to be embarrassed, girl. Jack knows very well not to drag those painted guttersnipe in here. If he brought you along with him, it can only mean he wants to protect ye, or impress ye. So you'll have no judgement from me."

Elizabeth blushed from ear to ear as Jack gave Tess a pointed stare. "Thank ye, Tess," he murmured. "If you have two rooms to spare, we'd greatly appreciate it."

"Sorry, Lovey. We're all booked up for this evening. Sailors are running scared these days. Tortuga's been full up for months."

"Carrington," Elizabeth muttered.

"Aye, that name's been tossed about here and there. Seems he's made quite an impression in these waters," Tess added as she made careful note of the way Elizabeth's teeth clenched as she stared off in the distance pretending to ignore the conversation at hand.

"He's certainly no one to trifle with," Jack finished. "The usual room it is, then. Perhaps an extra cot if you have one, and the lady will be wanting a bath."

Elizabeth's head snapped toward him.

"I promised you a hot bath, did I not? Don't worry, I'll be long gone to the tavern. You'll have all the privacy you need," he assured her. She gave a small huff and turned her attention back toward the door. "The works, Tessy, spare no expense," he whispered conspiratorially to the woman.

"Leave it to me, Lovey. I'll take good care of her," she whispered back as she slid him the key to their room.

Jack bowed graciously and gently grabbed Elizabeth by the elbow, who gave a slight jump in surprise. "Come along, love. The boudoir awaits," he said gesturing toward the stairs leading up to the rooms.

"If she hasn't an extra cot, it's the floor for you," Elizabeth grumbled as they climbed the winding staircase.

"Believe me, Love. I had no misgivings about that," Jack laughed heartily at the expense of her flustered state as he followed behind her.

The room was far more spacious than she would have guessed. Fully furnished with a down bed just as Jack had promised, centered in front of a large bay window lined with lace and velvet curtains overlooking the sea. Next to the bed was a mahogany commode intricately carved with reliefs of more sea nymphs; the sitting area was complete with settee, ottoman and desk; a large armoire huddled itself in the far corner of the room; and a table, wash basin, and chamber pot were tucked behind a private curtain beyond the armoire.

For a moment, Elizabeth's breath was stolen from her lungs as she admired the extravagantly detailed furnishings. It reminded her greatly of her old life in the Governor's mansion.

"I thought you could use an evening befit a Lady," Jack interrupted her reverie, relishing in the moment of speechlessness he coaxed out of her.

"It's quite lovely," she managed to breathe out at last.

"I'll leave you to it, then," he said quickly, making his way for the door.

She turned to him abruptly, "You're leaving already?"

"Tess should have your bath brought in shortly, I thought you wanted your privacy?"

"Yes, I mean no, well, that is…you don't have to scurry off immediately. We only just got here. Don't you want to rest…or sit?" she stammered, her feeble questions only barely concealing her intent.

The truth was, she didn't want to be alone, at least not yet. Privacy on a ship was one thing in that one was never truly alone, on land was another matter entirely and Elizabeth began to feel panicked at the thought of Jack not being near.

"At least stay until my bath arrives," she amended and Jack returned an understanding smile at her request and made his way to the commode. With a few sly maneuvers, clicks and clanks, a secret compartment revealed itself as did a fine bottle of rum and a couple of glasses.

"That's handy," Elizabeth remarked, impressed at the level of craftsmanship on display.

"You've got to hand it to the French, they do manage to get a few things right every now and again," Jack replied as he poured them each a glass of the aged brown liquid.

When he turned back to her, Jack found Elizabeth staring out of the large window, scrutinizing the blackened horizon. Jack nudged her shoulder and handed her the glass. "Not a devil's chance you'll be able to see sails at this time of night. You can put yourself at ease for one evening, can't you?"

Elizabeth took a long sip from her glass. The liquid didn't burn like other rums she'd imbibed. This was smooth, buttery, almost like a warm tea. In what seemed like an instant, her head was buzzing and her face grew flushed. She continued her long stare into the darkness. "I don't think I've ever been at ease."

"That can't be true. When I plucked you from Shipwreck Cove all those years ago, you seemed fairly ecstatic join me on the Pearl. I daresay we had quite a bit of fun, you and me, before…you left," he coughed as he finished his sentence.

"I wonder if I'll ever feel that joyous again," she whispered, inadvertently voicing her fears, forgetting momentarily that she wasn't alone.

"That's awfully grim, darling. I know you've been through more than most at your age, but Lizzie, there is much in this world to bring one happiness."

"You have no bloody idea what I've been through," she turned to him, her gaze as serious as he'd ever seen it.

Jack quickly put his hands up, "You're right, I don't, and I'm certainly not a mind reader. However; if you want to unburden yourself, I can be a rather good listener…when I want to be."

Elizabeth gave a small chuckle and Jack responded instantaneously. "See, you remember how to laugh. Have a bit more rum, and you'll let yourself go in no time. You need not worry so much; leave that to me."

"Is that supposed to make me feel more at ease?" She teased.

"Well, yes."

Elizabeth gave an earnest laugh at his befuddled expression, earning an exasperated glare in return. "We'll be fitted for the noose by month's end," she teased.

"You know, I think I'll take the bed this evening and you can have the floor," Jack exclaimed with a finger in the air before making his way to the mattress and jumping rather gracefully upon its pillowy surface. Hands behind his head and legs crossed out in front, he lay back with a satisfied smirk.

"Oh no, I was promised a down bed and I'm going to have it…to myself. Move your filthy pirate arse," Elizabeth marched to the side of the bed, gently slamming her glass on the commode before crossing her arms and fixing Jack a menacing glare.

"You can have the pillows, they're down as well," Jack offered, tossing the pillows onto the floor at her feet.

"You're making a grave mistake," she warned.

"Is that right?" he challenged.

"Indeed," Elizabeth sang as she picked up a pillow and clobbered Jack in the face a few times.

"Ow! You sure are an oppressive monarch," he managed to sputter in between her well placed hits. "Are you quite finished?" he asked when she hit him one last time.

"Are you going to get up?" she battled back.

"No."

"Well, then I'm sorry, Jack." As she reared back to hit him again, he stopped the pillow mid-flight. Grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her down to the bed, pinning her wrists above her head and her body beneath him with such surprising quickness she barely had a chance to struggle.

Breathless, the two stared at each other, waiting for the other to do or say…anything. Elizabeth had nearly lost all reason when a loud knock sounded on the door.

"That'll be Tess with your bath," Jack exhaled, still taking focused breaths as he held Elizabeth in place.

"Your friend is likely eagerly awaiting your arrival," she whispered back.

"Right." Reluctantly, Jack released his grip and hopped off of the bed with equal swiftness as when he'd hopped onto it, and opened the door to allow Tess and the other handmaids inside. "She's all yours," said Jack before turning back to Elizabeth. "I'll see you downstairs," he spoke softly as he gave her one last longing glance before disappearing into the hall.

Elizabeth remained in her state of distress upon the bed, thoroughly exhausted, as if she just ran around the entirety of the island. It took every ounce of her strength not to devour Jack in that instant. She was in far less control than she'd prefer which was usually the case when Jack Sparrow was involved.

As she lay there, staring at the ceiling catching her breath, Tess and four other girls entered her room. Two girls carried the clawfoot tub into the middle of the room followed by the other two who were lugging in buckets of hot water while Tess brought up the rear with a basket of what she could only assume were salts and oils as well as a few linens.

"A few moments more, Lovey. Takes the girls nearly three trips to get the tub filled proper," Tess mused, paying Elizabeth little attention as she fussed with the salts and oils, aligning them in a single line on the commode.

"That's quite all right. I'm in no particular hurry. In fact, I've been ordered to be leisurely," Elizabeth answered as she sat up near the edge of the bed.

"I imagine that's a difficult chore for you, aye?" Tess asked, her focus trained on the task at hand.

"Exceedingly. "

"Drink a few more glasses of this rum and leisurely will seem a leopard's pace." Tess teased, noticing Jack had already broke into the superior liquors.

"Jack has a taste for the finer things, doesn't he?" Elizabeth noted, staring about the room.

"So it would seem," Tess remarked with a meaningful glance in Elizabeth's direction that went completely unnoticed. Elizabeth had retreated deep into her mind, replaying the moment just before Tess arrived. "Forgive me, dear. Jack failed to mention your name," Tess interrupted.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I too have lost my manners over the years. It's Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth? Ah," Tess answered as it seemed some sort of realization crossed her features. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you." Finally went unsaid in the air between them, Tess recalling the frequency with which Jack spoke of her.

"Likewise. You have quite the establishment."

"Thank ye, dear. We wouldn't have nary a brick if it wasn't for Jack."

"Really?" Elizabeth asked intrigued.

"We owe him greatly," she answered.

It so happened that Tess McHenry and her husband, Clive, were expatriates from Ireland who "stumbled" upon a fortune when they escaped the Royal Navy aboard a merchant ship sailing out of London. Captained by a precocious, cocksure bloke who was probably too young to have been commissioned his own vessel, the merchant ship sailed straight to Tortuga and the Captain sent them off with nary a worry and a rather generous bit of coin without a second thought; and because of that, Captain Jack Sparrow always had a room whenever one was needed.

Elizabeth was speechless. That Jack had risked his commission for complete strangers, asking for nothing in return, was unthinkable. She never imagined him as the altruistic sort. A good man? Yes. But a selfless man? Not entirely.

A few more moments passed in silence. The girls finished filling the tub with steaming water and Tess began to toss in a mixture of salts, flowers, and oils. Elizabeth had made her way to the commode and poured herself a glass of rum, and then another while she waited for the ladies to clear out.

"Alright, dear. Get in," Tess ordered simply.

Elizabeth looked at the women, unsure of her meaning.

"Well, don't stand there gawking. The water's getting cold. Undress, so I can have your clothes washed and pressed, and let these girls get to work."

"Oh, I can manage on my own, really," Elizabeth assured her.

"Tut, tut. I have my orders too. Jack said the works, and I'm not about to refuse his wishes. Now, strip." Tess ordered more forcefully, but still kind. She had a very motherly demeanor, or close to what Elizabeth could imagine was motherly. So, Elizabeth did as she was bid, undressing before them. Standing awkwardly just outside of the tub, she instantaneously grew self conscious of the scars adorning near every inch of her body. Wounds that were still healing, wounds that had healed poorly, she was riddled with marks and burns.

The handmaids said nothing upon noticing the state of Elizabeth's skin, but Tess clucked disapprovingly as she examined her, circling her as if appraising her worth.

"Better add sandalwood oil to that bath for you, poor dear. Get in, I'll be just a minute."

Elizabeth slowly climbed in, dipping her toe in first and letting the rest of her foot and leg follow. The water was almost too hot, but she found she more or less relished the sting upon her skin.

Still moving at a ginger pace, she submerged the rest of herself into the tub, the water pricking her sores and scabs. She sat there unmoving as she acclimated to the temperature, the aroma of the oils provided a coolness as she breathed them in deeply, and the effervescence cause by the salts gave off a unique sensation upon her skin that she'd never experienced before. It was almost tantalizing.

Tess brought over the bowl of oil and a rag and set it on a stool next to one of the other girls. "My girls will take good care of you, try not to resist too much." Tess suggested sweetly with a wink before picking up Elizabeth's clothes and leaving the room. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Tess," Elizabeth called out before she could exit completely. "Do you by chance have something I can wear in the meantime? I don't have any other clothes," Elizabeth asked bashfully. The woman had already done so much for her.

"I think I may have a couple of things lying around."

"Thank you."

"Don't you think anything of it, dear." Tess left with Elizabeth's borrowed garments tucked beneath her arm and Elizabeth was left with the very silent handmaidens who were set to bathe her.

As soon as Tess had left, the girls wasted no time getting to work. One of the girls gently urged Elizabeth forward with a hand to her back and Elizabeth recoiled slightly at the contact. She had to remind herself over and over that these girls meant her no harm. Jack trusted them, and she Jack, so, with great effort, she allowed herself to relax slightly as the girl lay her other hand upon Elizabeth's forehead and gently pushed her head back so only her face was still above the water's surface.

The girl held her neck in place with both hands, gently massaging the muscles from the base of her skull to where her shoulders met the base of her neck. While the young lady was doing this, another began to gently wash the remaining grime from Elizabeth's hair with soap and lavender oils. It didn't take long for Elizabeth to relax at that point. With closed eyes, she was basically putty in their hands, so when the other two girls began to attend the rest of her body, she put up no fight.

With seemingly silken sponges, they gently scrubbed her arms and legs with a combination of soap and oil. Each girl working on one side of her, she became a marionette as they continued their work, the movement of each appendage dictated by their hand. When her hair was finished to their specifications, she was propped up into a sitting position and pulled toward the back of the tub by her underarms. Every manipulation of her person had her feeling as if she weighed no more than a feather with the effortlessness of their actions.

The girl who had been massaging her neck continued down to the tops of her shoulders and shoulder blades, firmly working out the tension and knots that had made themselves a permanent home. The girl who had been tending to her hair began to sponge the sandalwood oil over her back, rubbing in gentle circles so as not to irritate the wounds any further.

Eventually they leaned her back against the tub, the girl behind her continued massaging her back, another had begun to massage her legs and feet, the third massaged her forearms and hands, while the last took a smaller more delicate sponge and started to wash Elizabeth's front. She started washing at her neck and made her way slowly, delicately down her chest and to her stomach. She was positively euphoric having her entire body touched at once, it was almost too much for her to stand. She squirmed ever so slightly as the sponge found it's way across the peaks of her chest, but she eventually relaxed into it. That is, until the maid trailed the sponge between her legs.

Elizabeth flopped about the water at the unexpected contact.

"Relax miss," the girl behind her whispered. "We're here to take care of you," she continued softly moving her hands from Elizabeth's shoulders to massage the muscles just above her breasts.

Elizabeth's head began to buzz, the heat from the bath was radiating to her face, and her insides began to flutter as the girl continued to wash her most private areas. The rum was starting to make its presence known, and Elizabeth was slowly letting herself go, as Jack suggested. Suddenly, the sponge disappeared, and the young woman began to massage Elizabeth with her hand, softly thrumming her fingers across Elizabeth's center.

As Elizabeth was about to voice her protest, the girl behind her had begun to slowly massage Elizabeth's breasts, gently squeezing the tips, and Elizabeth breathed a moan of pleasure as her back arched slightly.

"That's it, Love. Enjoy it," the girl whispered to her again, her breath hot in Elizabeth's ear. She placed her lips to Elizabeth's neck and trailed her mouth up to her earlobe. Elizabeth gasped again as she accepted her fate.

With her eyes still closed, it wasn't the girls' voice or hands Elizabeth envisioned, but a considerably more calloused hand and a much deeper, brusque voice guiding her to heights of pleasure, and she was suddenly thrust back onto the Pearl to a night spent long ago. A night that would invariably change Elizabeth and Jack forever.

There had been a storm, a mighty tempest that raged on for days. There wasn't much they could do, but get themselves to shallower seas and wait it out. What was one to do when it was unsuitable to be out on deck and there was no work to be done? So, Elizabeth joined Jack in his cabin, and they drank. Four bottles of rum consumed between the two of them. Stories and jokes were shared among friends who had spent a considerable amount of time with each other as they searched for a map, at the time, Elizabeth was certain didn't exist. Inhibitions were dashed upon the planking of his cabin, any walls or boundaries set between them were toppled that night. The two found themselves upon his bunk, merely laying in the other's embrace. Harmless, innocent, until Elizabeth opened her mouth. Three words that were her own little secret, one she planned to take to the grave at the expense of her own happiness and to spare the life of her cursed husband. But she'd said them aloud. She said them aloud and she couldn't take it back, and in her drunken state, she found it was the last thing she wanted. He deserved to know, did he not?

Everything else happened in a blur. His mouth upon hers, calloused hands snaking beneath her blouse, ripping the garment off of her in one passionate movement, her hands desperately reaching out to him, grasping at the linen of his own shirt. Garments were strewn about the floor, her mouth found the base of his neck, suckling at the skin that tasted of sweat and salt. She ran her hands over his tanned, muscular frame, tracing every contour with eager fingers. He hovered above her. His own hands explored her unmarred skin, the perfect porcelain yet to be tarnished by monsters and misadventures, before eventually tracing them at a turtle's pace to her center. Elizabeth elicited a gratified gasp as he finally plunged his fingers inside of her. His mouth was on her ear, hot, wanting, whispering back the words she had only dreamed he'd kept secret for himself. His lips slithered down her neck to her breasts while continuing his exploration of her folds. His mouth trailed lower still, her breathing quickened as she felt herself losing all control. Something was building within her that was nearing a point of explosion. His tongue laved the sensitive spot she'd barely explored during nights of her own temptable curiosity and was brought to a molten liquid as his fingers still danced within her. A moan, a whimper, and, shortly after, a scream as a million lights danced behind her eyes, a heavenly energy filled her every crevice, and a great release that she hadn't a proper word for sprung forth in a single name. "Jack!"

Elizabeth came hard in the hands of the women tending to her. Completely breathless, her heart pounding, she opened her eyes to find the handmaidens smiling at her cheekily with knowing gazes. She'd completely lost herself in her memory and she wondered if she may have called out his name in her rapture.

"Feel better, Miss?" she was asked with no amount of sarcasm.

"Yes, thank you," Elizabeth answered back with a bashful smile. The girls finished her bath, ensuring they'd rinsed the majority of the soap from her person, and soon instructed her to stand. She was wrapped with linen and escorted from the tub. Her knees buckled as she first made to move, still affected by their thorough ministrations, but she quickly regained her footing before stepping out onto the floor.

They presented her with a beautiful, brilliant blue, silken robe decorated in Japanese blossoms which she accepted gratefully. After she put it on, one of the girls grabbed Elizabeth by the hand and led her to the desk chair, sat her down, and began combing out the tangles in her hair. No easy feat, but it was handled with the utmost care. As she sat there, memories began swirling more rapidly, replaying the aftermath of her evening in the storm.

Oh how she wished it ended with her pampering, but no. Elizabeth's childish notions of honor and loyalty came screaming into the forefront of her conscience as she screamed Jack's name into the night. Still in a fever dream, she pulled him onto the bed and pushed him onto his back so she could climb atop him. They were mere inches from sharing in one of the oldest, most sacred acts of love, and as she stared down at his face, losing herself into his fathomless eyes, she realized that if it were to go any further, there was no way she would ever be able to leave him. It made her heart ache at the mere thought. The truth of the matter was that Will would inevitably return and she made a vow, a promise; not to Jack, but to Will.

She had to leave.

She ran as fast and as far as she could from him, as much as the ship would allow. Barely clothed, she burst from the cabin onto the deck. The rain was coming down in sheets, one could hardly see two feet in front of their nose, but she hurried for the steps below deck. He'd run after her, confused, heartbroken, catching her on the steps. She tried to explain her reasoning, but it made little sense to him. If she loved him as she said, then to hell with Will, he argued. But she made a vow and that was all there was to it. Eventually, reluctantly, he let her leave. The look of utter betrayal in his eyes as she disembarked the Pearl was more heart wrenching than anything she'd seen in all of the time she'd known him. And yet, he still went out of his way to come for her, to make her feel safe and cared for. She didn't deserve any of this, she didn't deserve him.

She wiped a stray tear from her cheek as the maid finally finished detangling her hair and plaited it into a long braid that draped down her back. It was by that time Tess returned.

"And how are we feeling?" Tess questioned sweetly. "Refreshed, I hope."

"Invigorated," Elizabeth muttered softly to herself.

"Lovely, dear, just lovely," Tess offered her approval proudly to the handmaid beside her as she circled Elizabeth in final appraisal. "Hurry, now, and tidy up this mess," she ordered them and the girls scurried off to clean up the sponges, rags, oils and all other remnants from the bath.

"Is that a standard service offered here?" Elizabeth asked with piqued curiosity.

"I don't know what you mean, Lovey," Tess played coy as she placed Elizabeth's long braid over her shoulder so it draped down her front.

"The works? Is that what Jack called it? The thoroughness of the offered bath. Or is that something reserved only for Captain Jack Sparrow?" Elizabeth was unsure what she was actually asking. Was she the first girl Jack had brought here for such a treatment? Did Jack regularly receive the same service? Or was she merely the recipient of unbridled generosity? Not that any of the these things would necessarily bother her, or would they?

"Listen to a shriveled up old lady and don't look a gift horse in the mouth, eh?" Tess had bent low to look Elizabeth in the face.

Elizabeth laughed at the absurdity of it all and buried her head in her hands. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be ungrateful. I'm just…" Jealous? Confused? Aroused? Exhausted.

"It's all right, dear. I know you've been through quite the ordeal," she put a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder, making her feel instantly at ease.

"Jack told you that, did he?" Elizabeth presumed, how else would Tess know?

"No, Jack has never been one to tell another's story. I guessed from the way the venom dripped from your mouth at the barest mention of Commodore Carrington, and when I saw the marks on your body, I put two and two together. How long were you his prisoner?" Tess asked sympathetically

"Long enough. Thank the gods Jack came for me when he did. He saved my life… again." Elizabeth paid particular attention to her hands, grimacing at the blood stained upon them.

"He must care for you a great deal." Tess watched Elizabeth's reaction with curiosity, ready to read any subtle body language to confirm what she figured she already knew.

"He does." Elizabeth answered with a half smile, somewhere between full blown giddiness and sorrow. She was starting to question how it was even possible he could care about her in the slightest.

"Do you love him?" Tess dared to ask.

"I can't," was the simplest of answers Elizabeth could give.

"You can't?" Tess asked, confusion painting her features.

"I'm married." Cursed was more like it.

"Ah." Tess nodded her head in some understanding.

"Well, it's more complicated than that…" Elizabeth was going to attempt to defend herself, but Tess interrupted her quickly.

"The course of true love never did run smooth, but your reasons are your own, I'm sure. Now, I was able to find a frock to fit that slender frame of yours. It's nothing fancy, but it's a slight better than the rags you came in," She finished changing the subject as she could tell Elizabeth had grown increasingly uncomfortable with the previous topic of conversation.

It was a simple gown, light blue, high waisted, with sleeves that barely reached her elbows, and a bodice that tied down the front. It seemed as though it was meant for someone a few inches shorter than she, but it fit perfectly around her waist. She put it on without a fuss, and faced Tess with moderate apprehension.

"Presentable?" Elizabeth asked nervously. It had been some time since she sported any kind of dress.

"No one would suspect you a pirate, much less the Pirate King. Your identity should be fairly well concealed." Tess replied with a wink and Elizabeth wondered if perhaps Tess could read her mind. "A few finishing touches…" she trailed off as she pulled from her apron a small vile of jasmine oil and dabbed it behind Elizabeth's ears. "And one last thing," she chirped and pinched each of Elizabeth's cheeks causing them to redden ever so slightly. "You were in desperate need of color, dear. Looking a bit gaunt, you were." Tess cupped her cheek for just a second before making her way to the door. "I'll make sure the girls have the rest of this cleaned up before you return."

"Thank you," Elizabeth whispered, still feeling a bit odd after being fussed over, however welcome it was.

"I know it's not my place, but do you mind if I give you some advice?" Tess asked from the doorway, having delayed her exit.

Elizabeth nodded. What harm ever came from a little wisdom?

"Life is only complicated because we make it so. Love, however…love isn't complicated in the least. Your heart always knows the truth, you just have to take the time to listen," Tess finished and shut the door behind her once she made her way into the hall.

Elizabeth took a few centering breaths as she stared intensely at the shut door. Tess was right, her feelings for Jack were very simple, but it was life that was getting in the way. Though, she could hardly be blamed for matters being as complicated as they were. It was the curse that did them in, was it not? Will's freedom depended on her loyalty, on her love for him. What would happen to him if she listened to her heart?

Elizabeth straightened herself at once. There was no time to be pondering such things. She'd made her choice, her heart be damned…and it certainly was, there was no doubt about that.


End file.
